The Price We Pay
by The Awesome Novice Writer
Summary: It's the twelfth quarter quell and the tributes are paying for their crimes. Or for the crimes of someone else.
1. Prologue

As head peacekeeper of the armed forces, I feared no man. I went toe to toe with the toughest, cockiest, wannabe careers that thought they were all that, and won the Hunger Game that I had volunteered for. But after my victory, I found that I missed the discipline and routine that had came with my academy days. I fixed that by joining the peacekeepers.

I had got through peacekeeper training, being verbally, physically, and mentally harassed by sadistic peacekeeper instructors. I didn't quit the training when many others had thought it was too much to handle. The journey was tough, but it was well worth it.

And then there was the peacekeeping training for being a peacekeeper in a career district. It was much harder than normal peacekeeper training, but so much more satisfying. I was at home in District Two, and from all the districts I visited, I still thought my home district was the very best one. And then there were the leadership courses. Those were tough, but I was tougher.

And then there were the criminals that thought they could break me. They were wrong. They could swear at me, threaten me, hit me, break parts of my body, but they couldn't break my drive. My sense of duty. They couldn't stop me.

Everything considered, nothing seemed to phase me.

But that woman though. She scares me. I don't know what it is about her, but there's just something about her that says don't fuck with me. An aura of dangerous surrounding her. Many people might not be able to see it as she looks relatively harmless, but it's more of a thing you sense rather than see.

Or maybe it's because she is the most powerful woman in Panem that can have my head delivered to her on a plate if she so desired.

Straightening my tie outside of her room, I couldn't help but wonder what she could of wanted me for. She had asked for me personally to come to the Capitol to discuss something of sensitive nature, but for the life of me, I didn't know what it was. I could guess what it was, but I doubted that we were thinking of the same thing. But then again, it wasn't everyday that the head peacekeeper of the armed forces was called to the Capitol to meet with the president.

After finally straightening out that damn tie and smoothening out my dress uniform, I took a deep breath, exhaled, and calmly knocked on her door.

"Who is it?" I heard a feminine voice call from inside.

"Head peacekeeper Keystone, Ma'am." I responded calmly, not letting the situation take control of me. Not letting her hear my fear.

"Come on in." She instructed before I opened the door and came into her office.

It was impressively clean and organized, almost perfect. It was amazing really.

President Lightning, a svelte, but incredibly tall, ivory skinned woman in her early forties with the brightest yellow hair I had ever seen, sat behind a solid oak desk that was stacked high with papers. She was wearing a pair of glasses as she signed her name on documents.

Even though she was Capitol, she didn't look the part. A trend among presidents ever since President Snow. "Sorry about the mess." She sighed as she took her glasses off and gave me her full attention. "Take a seat, sir." I did as she instructed before she continued. "I'll try not to waste too much of your time as I know that your time is precious." I found that a little funny that the most powerful person in Panem was saying that to me, but I continued to listen. "As someone in your position might know, we are having some trouble in the districts at the moment. Namely, we've got a problem with rebels."

So it was what I had been thinking of. This changed everything. I guess I really did need to be here. Maybe she was coming up with a plan to wipe them out.

"Yes ma'am." I told her. "My peacekeepers and I have found increased number of rebels and rebellious acts in the districts. No matter what we do, it seems that we can't flush them all out. Or at the very least, put them out of commission temporarily. Because of their increased numbers and resources, they've grown bolder and increasingly violent."

There have always been rebels in Panem. From the very founding of Panem, The Dark Days, the start of the Hunger Games, and now. Though the worst of times were the unstable days before the creation of the Capitol and the districts, The Dark Days, and The Mockingjay Rebellion.

We of District Two were proud patriots, or at least, the vast majority of us, and supported the Capitol proudly during The Dark Days and The Mockingjay Rebellion. We were always the ones that influence the balance of power. If we hadn't been able to repel the rebels from taking over our home during The Mockingjay Rebellion, who knows where we'd be right now.

Probably under the District Thirteen president's rule. Thankfully, District Thirteen didn't exist anymore, this time for good. Ten years after that rebellion, an elite group of peacekeepers managed to sneak their way into their headquarters, plant explosives within their compound, and detonate them.

The fools thought that the Capitol wouldn't retaliate against them because they hadn't technically taken part in the war, but they had more than enough participated in it to allow their demise.

Good riddance.

But at this moment, while the rebel movement wasn't as large as they were during three major events, they were reaching uncomfortable levels. Not the first time that's happened, but left unchecked, there could be a forth major event of chaos.

"Yes," Lighting replied understandingly. "That makes if difficult doesn't it." I nodded my head once. "I've got a plan Sir Keystone. It might or might not work, but right now, it's the best plan that I can come up with. And with your permission, I'd like to go over it with you and maybe get your stamp of approval on it."

Wait... Wasn't it supposed to be the opposite way around? I was confused, but I was listening. Even if it wasn't going to go into effect, there was no harm in listening.

"Honor is all mine, ma'am."

"Wonderful." She said before she slid me a piece of rectangular paper no bigger than my hand.

I picked the card off the desk and read it out loud.

"For the twelfth quarter quell, to remind the rebels of how unexpectedly your attacks came, the tributes of this year will be taken from their homes and sent straight into the arena."

I looked at President Lighting and asked her what was on my mind.

"Where are you going with this?" She smiled and started to explain her plan to me.

"Sir Keystone, this card basically says that we get to kidnap whoever we want and send them straight into the arena, no questions asked. We could use this to our advantage. Kidnap some rebel supporters and hopefully break the moral of the rebels." She then held up her hands slightly. "I'm not saying that it'll work right away, or even if it'll work at all, but it's an idea that I wanted to share with you."

I hummed as I thought about that plan, looking over the quarter quell card again.

"Won't you need to announce this?" I asked.

"That card had specific instructions not to tell attached to it." She told me. "I announce it to the world after the tributes are in the arena."

"I see." I said as I examined the card some more. "But won't people get suspicious if all the tributes are rebel supporters? We'll need some innocents to make it look legit." If we went upon this the wrong way, it could make things worse than they already were. With peacekeepers being assaulted and murdered in vicious ways, I didn't want anymore harm to come to them than was already happening. And then there were the people we were supposed to protect.

All out war. We were trained for that. Ready for it. But if anything, we'd rather avoid it.

"Yes yes, excellent point." President Lighting said evenly. "Have some innocent souls go into the game to avoid suspicion."

"All in all ma'am, I think this is a great plan. As you said earlier, it might not work, but I think it's worth a try."

The president smiled at my approval.

"Wonderful." She exclaimed happily. "So as you know Sir Keystone, nothing leaves this room."

"Of course." I answered, understanding that this was of utmost secrecy.

"One last question before I release you." Lighting said to me. "How good are your peacekeepers at kidnapping?"

 **A/N: Long story short for how I got this idea, my friend got me to listen to a song, I remembered a story I had done before, didn't finish it, deleted it, and now I'm doing this instead.**

 **Welcome to another SYOT being made.**

 **If you're interested, the form is in my profile. PM me your filled out form and see what happens from there. Just a couple of things I want to go over. First of all, I don't want everyone to submit rebel supporters. I'd like maybe five innocent tributes or something, and tributes that don't even support the rebels but are still breaking laws.**

 **Examples might be like: Someone bribing the peacekeepers with real food so that they won't have to eat bad tasting MREs in exchange for letting them get away with things. Or someone prostituting them self to the peacekeepers for money.**

 **Examples for rebel supporters: Being a message courier for the rebels. Hiding rebels from peacekeepers/using your house as a rebel safe house.**

 **What I don't want to see: Being a rebel leader. Someone that assassinates peacekeepers for the rebels.**

 **I've got the D12 tributes ready (as they were made by me) and the next chapter should be out tomorrow. The other chapters however... Not so quickly.**


	2. District 12

Getting off of work, that's the best part of the day. You get to finally not think about what could go wrong down in the mines and can actually stand up right. Take more than a moment to stretch your aching back and extend your arms to their full length.

And the absolutely best part of getting out of that underground tunnel? Getting to see real light. Well... Not like the sun or anything, but the moon did give off a nice shine, lighting up the dirt path that we followed towards my home.

Following the path and looking at the crudely made homes, I thought of how the area looked at night compared to what it looked like during the day. During the day the area had people going to their destinations, peacekeepers patrolling the streets, maybe a couple of little farm animals running about, and there was the noise. So much noise that sometimes you had to shout to be heard.

But at night, things were different. Sure it was a little eerie and there were more peacekeepers patrolling the area, looking for rebels and rebel activity, but I liked it. It was quiet, it was calm for the most part, and it was peaceful. Except for the times it wasn't, but now was not one of those times.

As my friends and I walked towards my home with our work supplies in tow, a group of peacekeepers halted us and demanded to know what was in our bags and where we were going. We told them that we just got off our shift of working the mines and let them search us and our supplies. Their patrol leader asked us some more questions, and we answered them honestly.

When they were done searching us and reported nothing suspicious about us, they let us go without a fuss. As long as you weren't a rebel or looked suspicious, the peacekeepers left you alone.

We continued to walk the path until we eventually reached my house. It wasn't the greatest house in the Seam, but at least it had a roof that didn't leak when it rained, and for me, that was enough. I didn't mind that I didn't have many possessions and that the only heat that was generated was from the stove or oil lamps.

My friends and I kicked off our coal coated boots and coveralls that were smudged with black dust. Laying down our tools as quietly as we could so that we didn't wake my parents and siblings, I soon lit an oil lantern and produced a soft glow inside the house.

I was welcomed with the sight of cleanness that completely contrasted the way my friends and I looked. While the room was damn near perfect despite being very aged, it was clean and organized. My friends and I were dirty, and we packed our tools in our bags without a care where they went.

I'll clean the mess we made after the reapings, right now, I just wanted to rest and chill with my friends.

"Make yourself comfortable." I quietly told my two friends as I walked to the kitchen. "But not too comfortable. Mom will kill me if you put your nasty feet on the table again, Ash."

"Will do." Ash replied from the other room.

I got to the fridge, the only piece of modern technology that my family owned, and grabbed three bottles of beer from it before returning to my friends and handing them one each. Flopping down on the couch beside Ash, I let out a sigh of utter comfort as my legs felt peace for the first time in hours.

"Reaping's in a few hours," Piper said as she took a sip from her bottle. "I don't know about you guys, but I think this is the first time I'm excited for it." The look Ash and I were ones of utter shock and confusion. How could she be excited for the reapings? Of all things, why was it the reapings?

Piper seemed to realize what she said, because she then started to try and explain herself nervously. "I mean... Not like what you think... It's just that..."

"Pipe," I sighed. "I don't know about you, but I didn't even want to think about the reapings until I wake up in a few hours. Now I'm wondering if you've been damaged by the fumes from down under."

"And how can you be excited for the reapings?" Ash asked curiously. "In case you haven't remembered, people get reaped to die."

"I know I know." Piper groaned. "It's just that it's our last year, so, I'm excited for it to end." And that's when it hit me. It was our last year for the reapings. After this, we'd be free from the fear of being chosen for the Hunger Games. My worry for Piper disappeared and was replaced with joy.

"She's right." I said with a smile. "We're eighteen now. We just have to survive tomorrow, and we'll be free from the reapings bowls."

"Way to turn the mood around." Ash replied before he raised his beer into the air in front of him. "To our last reaping."

"To our last reaping." Piper and I quietly cheered as all three bottles clacked together and the three of us took huge pulls of our drinks. All three of us then let out satisfying ahhhhs.

"What do you think this year's quarter quell is?" I asked, thinking of how the quell announcement was never made. It still haunted my mind, wondering what it was going to be this year. This wasn't normal, even for a quarter quell. They should of announced it six months ago, but never did. What could it possibly be?

"Who cares." Ash told me without a care. "It's our last day tomorrow, let those younger than us worry about that."

"I am worried." I told him. "What if they decide to reap only eighteen year olds?"

"Then prey it ain't any of us then." Ash then took another sip of his drink.

"Dude, the quell could be anything, and we're unprepared for it. What if they decide to reap all eighteen year olds for some type of epic show down?"

"Come on, even the Capitol wouldn't do something like that."

"The Capitol could." Piper cut in. "The quarter quells were created hundreds of years ago, so who knows what they were thinking of back then." Piper then let out a sigh. "I blame the rebels for us not knowing. Maybe they cut off the Capitol's communications and because of that, we'll be unprepared for what to face."

"Well you know the rebels," I said as I rubbed my head. "They don't care about the commoners like us. They say they're doing it for our sake, but all they're doing is causing trouble."

Just thinking about the rebels made me want to join the peacekeepers to try and help them take down people in my own district, that's how bad they were. Because of them, it was harder to get to and from work, there was an increased number of peacekeepers, and there was more danger in the district. The number of arsons, assaults, thefts, murders, and other related crimes were on the rise ever since they showed up once again.

Their war against the peacekeepers has us in the cross fire. I hated it. The Capitol wasn't perfect, but at least they kept us safe. And the peacekeepers themselves weren't the monsters everyone portrayed them to be. We were safer before the rebels showed up.

"Fucking A man." Ash said. "I still have a missing hinge on my door because of them."

"For the people," I snorted. "What a laugh." I finished off my beer and set the empty bottle on the table. "Anyway, I'll get some spare blankets for you guys. I'll be back."

"Thanks." Replied Ash.

"Thanks." Replied Piper.

I once again picked up the oil lantern and navigated the house until I reached the bathroom, which held the towels and spare blankets. Setting the oil lantern down, I picked out two of the good blankets before picking up the lantern again.

As I walked back to my friends, I took a moment to inspect myself in the dusty and cracked mirror. In the low light, I saw myself, Chock Roach, a name that almost sounded like cockroach. Eighteen years old with light skin from being underground where the sun don't tan,untidy black hair that needed a trim, and Seam grey eyes. Though I was dirty, I could still see the sleep bags under my eyes and that I could use more food that I was currently eating. All in all though, I was not in the worst of shape.

Sniffing the air, I knew that looks didn't matter for my kind of work. I was in near pure darkness and out of sight from nearly everyone, so what did it matter what I looked like?

I went back to my friends before I tossed them each a blanket before setting mine on the floor.

"Blow the lantern out when you're all done." I instructed them as I set the lantern on the table and crawled into my blanket and wrapped it around my body. Warmth my friend, let me embrace you tonight.

"Will do." Ash told me as I laid on the cold, hard floor, ready to close my eyes and fall asleep.

"Just think guys," Piper said with excitement. "Tomorrow, we'll be free."

"I look forward to that." I told her before I let darkness overtake me.

* * *

Who could be pounding on the door at three in the morning? That's what I was wondering as I approached the front door and slide back the eye slot my parents had inserted into the door.

I could easily guess who was knocking on the door of the clinic because there were only two types of people that normally came this late at night. They were either miners or rebels. And as I looked through the slot, I could see that they were the people that I didn't want.

"Alaula," The man outside panted. "We need your help."

Beside him was a wounded man who was only standing due to the support his buddy was giving him with his arm around his shoulders and back.

I rolled my eyes and sighed before I slammed the slot closed and unlocked the door, letting them in. As soon as I opened it however, the two men burst into the building, nearly knocking me to the floor before swiftly kicking the door shut. The man that wasn't harmed quickly made his way to the nearest table before shoving everything off of it. Items fell to the floor and either rolled around or broke, before the injured man was laid on the now free table.

"Nice to see you too." I grumbled with as much sarcasm as I could muster, reflecting how I felt about them. I locked my door before I took a drag of the cigarette they had interrupted. "What is it now?"

"Don't be like that." The man told me as he ripped his friend's shirt off, exposing dark purple and swollen circles around the chest area. "We need your help. Are you going to give it to us or not?"

I sighed out a cloud of smoke before I went over to my patient and examined his chest. I pressed my fingers gently on and around the dark circles, feeling their tenderness and listening to the injured man hissing in pain.

"Does it hurt any where besides the chest?" I asked, wondering if he was injured anywhere else. He gave out a raspy cough that sent droplets of blood flying from his mouth.

"Face..." He gasped roughly. "Hurts..."

I took a look at his face for the first time, and saw that it was covered with fresh blood. His nose was broken and leaking red, his face was full of lacerations, and some of his teeth were missing from his bloody mouth. I made a guess at what happened to him, and guessed that it had something to do with the peacekeepers.

What were they doing now? Trying to drive the peacekeepers away from one of their hide outs? Or were they just fighting them again because of whatever reason they came up with?

I guess it doesn't matter what they did, he needed treatment, and I was going to give it to them.

I cleaned his wounds, wrapped them in bandages, and gave him something to numb the pain. It was a weak painkiller made from natural herbs, but that was all I felt like giving him.

I never liked them, the rebels. They fought the peacekeepers and tried to rally people to their cause. But all they did was create more work for me. The number of people that got injured increased, and not only that, but the fighting rebels came to my door and expected to be patched up when they got hurt fighting. My parents were getting sick of them as well, and I couldn't blame them.

It was just two groups of people fighting, and it didn't seem to make a lick of difference really. The only difference it seemed to make was that more people were getting hurt, making my parents and I busy. And desperate for supplies.

"There," I told them as I placed down what little supplies I had. "I've done what I can for you. Your ribs are fractured, but not broken, so try to move as little as possible and don't strain them too much. As for your teeth, I can't do anything for them. The bandages should be changed at least once a day."

"Thanks Alaula," The rebel that wasn't injured told me. "Thanks again. We need people like you helping us."

I snorted at that comment as I finished off my cigarette.

"I don't help you because I support your cause." I told them as I dropped the cigarette and snuffed it out with my shoe. "I do it to help people."

"You could be doing a lot more good if you joined us." He said with a smile. "Just think about it. You could be our medic. We could get healed without the fear of walking over here and getting caught by the peacekeepers. And with your looks, you could help us with recruitment. Why, you'd be doing more good with us than you are right here."

With my looks? I doubted it. With my light coloured skin, plain brown hair, and Seam grey eyes, the only thing that made me special was that I looked like I was a mixture of Seam and Merchant. I wasn't, but the light skin I somehow got from my olive skinned parents made it seem that way.

And I wouldn't even think about joining the rebels. After everything they did to the district and the way they used me and my parents, I wasn't going to become their medic. I was here to help the district, not just a single group. Hell, I would help the peacekeepers if they came to my doorstep, but they had their own medical bay, so they didn't need my services.

"I'll take my chances here." I answered with no hesitation. The man looked disappointed before he grabbed his comrade and left the clinic.

I sighed in frustration. Yet another thing that I hated about the rebels, they never paid. When we helped someone, they'd pay us however they could. If they could only pay us with some rice, we took that rice. If they could only pay us with a few coins, we accepted those few coins. Hell, if someone could only spare me a cigarette, I'd take that cigarette and call it even. If they couldn't pay, we'd have them help us run the clinic for a bit.

But the rebels never paid us anything. They always wanted free service, saying that they were fighting us for us. That we should heal them because they were trying to free us from the Capitol. Well just because I'm only fifteen years old doesn't mean that I don't understand what's going on.

We were running low on supplies because the rebels wouldn't pay us anything for the service we gave them, and their fight with the peacekeepers were making us get more customers. And not in a good way.

I hope that the fighting stops soon. Peacekeepers, the rebels, I don't care who wins, there's too much death and destruction in District Twelve without the pointless fighting.

 **A/N: My two examples of tributes. Anyway, we're going to get chapters like this for each of the districts, and then the games straight after.**


	3. District 4

Eleven at night. Was it late? Yes. Was it necessary for me to be out at this time of night? Absolutely. After all, what we were doing at the moment was so totally worth it.

"Yo man, this is going to be so fucking rad." I told my friend as I continued to rub fish guts all over myself.

"Wait a minute..." Cleat said in wonder. "Did you just say, rad? What century are you living in man?"

"Oh come on," I said to him as I took a sniff of the revolting smell of dead sea animals. Only six hours dead in the blistering sun. Perfect. "Rad is an awesome word you know it."

"I haven't heard anyone say that word since we were six years old. We're eighteen now." He answered me as he drew a finger across my face like he was finger painting on a blank canvas. "Nobody uses that word anymore."

"Well you know what, I'm going to bring that word back and you can't stop me."

"Yeah whatever. Good luck saying that in front of everyone as you get laughed at."

We continued to cover myself in fish innards before throwing on some dirt for added effect.

Our plan was simple. Our plan was effective. Our plan was going to cause mayhem. At least, it was going to cause mayhem to some people, but they were the people we were targeting, and boy was it going to create an effect.

Everyone was so wound up because it was a quarter quell that they forgot how to have a good laugh. They were all so serious and just kept on the morbid side of things. Well that was going to change tomorrow. Or if we were really lucky, tonight. Hopefully it'll be tonight, but if I had to wait until tomorrow, it would seem even more devastating, and it would create a bigger effect.

I shivered as the wind blew across my body, making the cold fish guts seem even colder than they already were. I should of brought a blanket or something.

"It's a shame that Delfina ain't with us." I said to Cleat. "But if this can get her out of her moody mood, then it'll be the next best thing."

"Hasn't been the same since those rebels called her and told her... Well... Whatever it was that they told her." He explained as he started to pack up what was left of our equipment. "I mean, it must be something bad if she won't even want to hang with us to commit this act."

"A-men to that." I replied.

The rebels. If there was anyone that needed to have a good laugh it was them. They were way too serious for their own good. I mean, I get that they're trying to make this place better, but if they keep on going on how they're going, they'll just even up being a bunch of paranoids.

I respect them, I really do. And the more I've talked to them the more I find myself willing to join their cause. But unlike my friends, I'm not as into it as them. I mean, Delfina uses her home as a rebel safe house, while Cleat help them by being their strategist sometimes. But me, I just like talking to them, listening to them, and lightening their mood a little. Sometimes, I even give them free fish. Lord knows we can afford it.

I may be with them, but I'm not with them. Yet. "I'd tell them to let Delfina off their leash and allow her to live life a little, but knowing them..."

I didn't need to say the rest, Cleat got it.

"Yeah." He sighed as he snapped his case shut. "Here, take a look at your ugly mug and tell me what you think before I leave." He said as he tossed me a miniature mirror, which I easily caught.

I surveyed myself in the low light. My tan skin now looked paler than Cleat's. Smudged dirt covered the freckles cross the bridge of my nose. My light brown hair was now a mess of dried blood and dirt. Though my sea green eyes still looked the same.

"I still look better than your ugly face." I laughed as I tossed the mirror back.

"Well then I've got nothing to lose." He countered as he pushed his thick framed glasses up his nose. "Heavens forbid that a short, black haired guy like me get covered in dirt and grime. While you Mr. Turret Tawell, lose your looks and the ladies."

"I've banged more chicks and penetrated more dudes than you ever will in your lifetime." I rounded evenly.

"Slut." He laughed before we lightly banged fists together.

It was our thing. I'd comment about his asexuality, and he'd comment about my easiness. In my opinion, it showed how close we were. However, it still wasn't as close as Delfina and I were. Damn. I wish she were here right now. "But seriously dude, your mom might die, kill me, then die again."

"It's kill me, die, then kill me again." I corrected. "And if that happens to her because of something this minor, then she deserves to die." Not really, I love my mom, but she needs to worry less often and less intensely. I'll save her hair from going grey.

"Well then, as I said earlier, who should I tell first? Your family or the rebels?"

"Tell my family, and then the rebels." I told him as I laid down on and between the tall reeds. "And then tell Delfina." I then let out a wide smile. "And make it dramatic as well. Be like... A drama king or something. But not so over the top that they think it's fake."

"No problem. Easy as..."

"I swear to God dude, if you say mother fucking pie I will smack you across the face because I know for a fact that making pie is harder than it seems."

"Well I was going to say as easy as you becoming a bloodbath victim in the Hunger Games, but for you, I'll say it. Easy as mother fucking pie."

"Fuck you." I laughed before I picked up a handful of dirt and threw it at him. It hit his legs.

"Well, better get going." He explained as he stood up and brushed himself off. "People to freak out, people to leave."

"What am I supposed to do while waiting?" I asked.

"I don't know. Sleep?"

"Works for me." I told him before I closed my eyes. "This prank is going to be so awesome man."

"You know it." He laughed. And like that, he was gone.

With that, I was left with my thoughts. When they did me, all covered with fish guts and I look like I'm dead, they're going to freak the fuck out. There will be fits of crying and hysteria. Followed by anger and clouded minds. And then when I show them that I'm not really dead, there will be anger, then crying, then laughter, then joy. We'll have a good sweet time and hopefully the dark mood will rise a little. Mom might try to kill Cleat and I, but it'll be worth it.

The reapings will come, and my friends and I will make fun of the Capitol's goofy accent, someone will get picked, the rebels will continue on with their jobs, more kids will die, a victor will be crowned, and history will repeat itself.

All in all, I only had one regret.

I wish I could be on a boat right now.

I mean seriously. Nothing. Could possibly. Ruin the mood I am in right now.

* * *

"You guys are crazy if you want to go in that arena. I like living, thank you very much."

Those words repeated in my head again, and again, and again. It was torture, like a broken record player playing that one part of that one song that you absolutely hated, but there was nothing you could do to stop it.

Sighing heavily, I placed the throwing knife I had been holding back in it's sheathe and turned back to my mother. Sleeping in her rocking chair with a string of drool coming out of her mouth, she looked like she couldn't harm anyone. It was a different story not too long ago as she had a look her in eyes that said not to mess with her. She had been actively standing, or rather, sitting guard and it looked like nothing could stop her if something did happen.

Now she looked peaceful and relaxed. Not a bad look on her.

At least she's getting some sleep. I thought with a yawn, looking at the clock behind her. Three eleven in the morning. I should be sleeping, but I wasn't. I was too worried to fall asleep. But then again, that's what my mother had thought, and now look at her.

But at least I wasn't the only one that was awake and in my company. My older sister, Memory Worthington, was staring at the front door. Just staring at it with a blank look that I couldn't describe. But if I had to, it would be nothing short of creepy and weird. She was perfectly still, perfectly silent. The only indication she was alive was the soft rise and fall of her chest and the slow blinks that she gave off once in a while.

"Memory," I said softly, trying to get my sister's attention. She didn't react, didn't even blink. I tried again. "Memory," Still nothing. "Memory." I said a little bit louder before I tossed a throwing knife at her. The knife struck the floor five feet away from her, and yet, from the way she screamed, you would of thought the knife sank into her flesh.

"Whoa whoa whoa!" I yelled, waving my hands in front of me. "Calm down! Calm dow-"

All of a sudden, the front door burst open and three armed men stormed into the house.

"Get down! Get down!" They shouted as they swung their guns around.

"It's just us!" I told them before they lowered their weapons. My sister's screams of terror came to rest.

"I'm sorry," She told us. "I just thought-"

"Yeah. My bad." I explained before the lead figure sighed and walked up to me. "I tried to get her attention with a knife." Though he didn't remove the black mask from his face, the piercing green eyes told me that it was Dannon Worthington, my father. I had his eyes.

While my sister had my mother's calm blue eyes, my father and I had sharp green eyes. But if there was anything that we all shared, it was our tan skin and curly blonde hair.

"You know you should do things like that with your sister." My father said to me. And though he wasn't being harsh to me, his voice had some bite in it.

"Yeah. I know. Sorry." I apologized. I should of known better. Ever since Memory came back from the arena three years ago, she never was the same. Nightmares and staring into nothingness for who knows how long.

My father rubbed my head, because even though I sixteen she still thought of me as his little girl, before he got the other two men to come outside with him. My mom didn't wake up the entire time, though I'm sure we were protected well enough.

My father, along with fourteen other rebels, were protecting me from the peacekeepers that may or may not come after me. From the radio frequency that they had hacked, they managed to get some information about what was going on. The peacekeepers were going to kidnap someone from the district, that was the quell this year. Kidnapping. They said they were going to get a couple of rebel supporters, so they instantly thought of me and my family. So the rebel leader got fifteen of his troops, including my father, to guard the house.

Because ever since Memory came back, we've been supplying them with money, weapons, transportation, and other useful resources. We wanted the games to stop, so that nobody else would have to suffer like my sister had. I wish she never volunteered. I wanted my old sister back.

Maybe with our help, our district rebels will be able to make a difference. Everything will be perfect in the end. I highly doubted it since the Capitol has so much power and influence. Especially in districts One and Two. But a girl can hope, right? "I'm so sorry, Memory."

"Yeah. I'm sorry too, Clarity."

She didn't look at me. Why wouldn't she look at me? Was it because I reminded her of what she used to be in terms of looks? We looked nearly identical except for our eyes. And while my face was thin with a curvy figure, my sister's face was thinner and she had lost some of her assets due to her not eating as much as she should.

She hardly looked at me anymore. Why? Why won't she-

The door creaked open and I saw a burly masked figure stumble inside. He looked like he could barely support his own weight as he wobbled on his feet.

"Run." He gasped weakly before he collapsed on the floor. I didn't know what was wrong with him, but I did notice that there was a small syringe with a green feather stuck out his back.

Then a deafening bang and a flash of bright lights attacked my sight and hearing. I think I screamed as I cupped my hands next to my ears, I don't know, I couldn't even hear myself over the intense ringing in my ears. I could see anything over the multitude of colours in my vision. But I did know one thing.

"Don't let them take me!" I shouted, even if I couldn't hear myself, as I started to feel surprisingly weak. And tired. Why's everything turning black? "Don't let them-"

 **A/N: I'm not used to writing like this, but I like it. District Three is up next.**

 **Also, if anyone reads this far (because I hope to assume that people that want to submit will read this far), when I ask for their reaction to being kidnapped, I mean like, what would their reaction be when they find themselves in the arena.**


	4. District 3

**Huxley Moon's POV**

"Found a switch lamp," My older brother, Edi, short for Edison, told me as he set it down on my work bench. Which was really just a bunch of empty boxes with tools scattered all over it. It was a mess, but for now, everything that I needed was out and within reach. "Just like you told me."

"You're too kind." I replied with a smile as I picked up the rusted, but still functioning piece of shit. Edi returned the grin before I started to dismantle the desk lamp. "You think they'll like it?" I asked, not taking my eyes off the work.

"I think they'll like it very much." Edi answered as he sat on the metal chair beside his bed. "Honestly, I think it'll help the cause very much."

"Anything to help my darling brother." I said to him, lying through my teeth. Well, some what. My brother was aligned with the rebels, and because of that, it was easy for me to get close to them. My brother found them, and when he started to talk about how he had joined them and were supporting their cause for a free Panem, I couldn't help but let the imagination take place.

For the rebels, they were like a meal ticket. All I needed to do was get through their found door and gain their trust. Having my brother with them made things a little bit easier, but I had to do something for them. And so, I did.

If there was one thing that the rebels appreciated it was support, but that alone didn't get them to trust you. No. They needed more than just support. You needed to actually do something for them. Make them think that you were one of them. That you would be supporting their noble cause.

That's where me and my talents came in.

I could build things. I could somehow always see how things worked and how I could get them to work for me. I just knew how to place things together. That's where the bombs came in.

I gather supplies, or my brother or sweet little innocent sister, Elinor, come in. Sure my little sixteen year old sister wasn't as welling as my twenty one year old older brother, but she was less likely to be a target to the watchful eyes of the peacekeepers, so she was the one to ask for help more often. She may wonder why, but I wouldn't tell her why I needed those things or why she was running around the district collecting metal scraps. She didn't need to know, and mom and dad didn't need to know either.

It would be so much harder to do things as they watch. So much hassle. But what they don't know can't hurt them.

"I can't believe that you are actually helping us." Edi happily said. "I mean, I thought you were going to be like mom and dad and Elinor. Just not getting involved, like most people. All they do is bitch and moan about how fed up they are with the Capitol, but do nothing about it. At the very least though, our family is neutral. Right?" He then winked twice. I grinned at him, even though I didn't really give a fuck about the Capitol or the rebels.

The Capitol people were idiots, but they knew how to keep order for the most part. The rebels though, it seemed that they were fighting a hopeless war. They were out numbed, out gunned, and most of all, they were desperate. So when I started supplying them with bombs, they gladly flocked to me.

For a small fee, I would let them buy bombs off me. The basic ones were easy to make. Mix in a few ingredients, add a fuse, fill it with shrapnel, and presto, one homemade pipe bomb.

Others were a little harder to make. Ones with detonators or a delayed charge, or something more powerful, those were the ones that fetched higher prices. And for all I care, the rebels can keep on blowing shit up as long as they keep on paying me.

My family and I may be middle class, but more money, more food, more supplies or whatever else we wanted never hurt anyone. Besides, everyone wants more, what makes me so different from them? Nothing. Except that I actually do something other than bitch about how I want more.

"Hey, what can I say?" I told him as I screwed in the last parts of the improvised explosive. "You convinced me. And hey, the rebels are helping out our family more than the Capitol ever did."

"You know it little bro." He sighed joyfully as he leaned back in the chair. "And just think. When the rebels finally take over this district, they'll move out to the other districts. Then the other districts will rise up and take over those districts. And soon, we'll be big enough to take on the Capitol and all it's peacekeepers."

"Yeah." I answered, screwing the shell shut. "But for now, it's people like you and your buddies that need to start the first stage." I told him before handing him the bomb.

"Don't worry, Huxley," He said before stuffing the bomb into his jacket pocket. "With these babies, we'll be taking down peacekeepers left and right."

"Hope so." I then pointed to the door. "Jamison's outside. He knows the best routes, so stay close to him. And please don't scare him too badly. You know how he is."

Jamison. Eighteen, just like me. But unlike he, he's scared about getting caught. So scared that ever since he started to help me with being my courier from time to time he's afraid peacekeepers are going to nab him off the street. I keep on telling my friend he won't get caught, but all it does is make him jumpy. I don't know why I try anymore.

And he's with my brother for another reason. While it wouldn't look strange if the two of us were out together, we'd have a harder time explaining why we were out wandering the district late at night. The peacekeepers would more than likely search us and find the explosives. Couldn't let that happen.

Also, Jamison with his light brown hair and light complexion made him different from me and my family with our Asian features. Black shaggy hair, tan skin, and wide dark eyes. If they got stopped, they might have an easier time explaining themselves. My brother was just leading Jamison home or something.

"Yeah, I won't." Edi assured me before he opened the exit door and proceeded to leave. "Hey Huxley," He called back before he was completely gone. "Be careful will you. Don't go out and scrounge unless it's safe."

"I looked back to my older brother.

"I'm always careful." I answered.

 **Eve Datter's POV**

Bang bang bang. That's the sound of the hammer striking the scrap nails that I could find into pieces of sheet metal and tin. It echoed through the neighborhood, probably waking those that had been sleeping. But then again, there were people that couldn't, or wouldn't sleep. So instead of trying to sleep, they didn't their own activities.

For me, it was trying to fix the roof of my home. It was raining, and while I did have a rain jacket on, the rain continued to harass me. Even worse, it was late at night, past midnight, dark, and cold. I could only see thanks to the flashlight I held in my mouth.

"Stop that stupid banging girl!" An older man yelled at me from a few houses away. "I'm trying to get some sleep here!"

I took the flashlight out of my mouth and yelled back at him.

"I will! Just hold on a few moments!"

"Better only be a few moments! Otherwise I'm coming up there and making you stop!"

"Bring it." I muttered, knowing that he was likely just talking. Most people wouldn't want to step out of their homes at this time of night, in this weather, just to have someone stop fixing their roof. I didn't want to be out here myself. But at the same time, I did. Because if this roof wasn't completely fixed, it would be so much colder inside, and I didn't want my little sisters to get sick. If they got sick, then I would of failed as a sister. I've got to take care of them, because if I don't, then who will?

I know that they can take care of each other, but the thing is, they're too nice for their own good. And when you live in this part of District Three, you can't afford to be too nice. In Raysville, you're either the one that takes from people or the one that gets taken from. I'd like to say that I'm of a higher breed. I take from those that take.

I didn't enjoy it, but it was what I had to do to survive. Plus, when you take from those that take, you usually get more than usual.

Funny, now I'm thinking about how this can apply to all of life for everyone. The Capitol takes from us and we have to suffer because of that. I mean, they give us those horrific Hunger Games and take away most of our resources, making us live in this crappy life that we live. They take and take and take, and they have so much. Because unlike those of us that live here, they have so much money that they could save so many people, but choose not to. We take from people because we have no choice. But the Capitol... They take because they can. I hate them. I wish that they could be brought down.

Luckily, there's the rebels for that.

I stop hammering for a moment to take a drink from an old thermos. The soup I made was now only luke-warm, but still really delicious. If there was one thing that the rebels like more than me hiding them supplies and stealing tiny things from the peacekeepers, it was the food I made for them.

I don't mean to brag, but my love for cooking matches how good the food is. A mystery to many, including myself. I don't know how I make food so good, but ever since mom and dad died in the factory accident, I'd like to say that I learned how make food that my sisters and I can stand to eat.

If it weren't for my sisters, I'd join the rebels and be their cook or something like that. But I don't want to place my sisters in any more danger that they're in right now. If I fight and die, who will take care of them? The rebels might, but I don't want them to be a part of their lives right now. They're too young. At fifteen, fourteen, and twelve, they're too young to be fighting.

So instead, I'm working as a manual laborer in a factory, moving supplies and whatnot. That's how I get the supplies I supply for the rebels. A gear here, a switchboard there, as long as it ain't too noticeable, the factory managers never do find out.

There really isn't anything that an uneducated person can get other than that. Seventeen years old, and all I can get is hard labor work. Maybe it's because they joke that I look more like a District Eleven girl than District Three.

Well muscled, but lean. Short, curly black hair. Large brown eyes that are too far apart from each other. Yeah, sooo District Three.

So yeah, maybe with the rebels, they'll be able to finally free Panem from the Capitol's greedy hands. If that happens, my sisters and I won't have to worry about being hungry again and having to fear those dreaded games.

You know, maybe if Davy is up to it, I could ask him if he's interested in joining up with th-

The sound of feet hitting the lightweight ladder on the side of my house started to clank. I sighed as I thought of that guy threatening to come up and stop me if I continued to work. Well he can't stop me from fixing this roof, at least temporarily. If my sisters catch a cold because of this guy, there's going to be hell to pay.

I turned around to face the guy. "Hey buddy, I told you a few-"

Phow.

What was that sound? And why am I getting dizzy?

I wobbled on my feet before I dropped to my knees. Dropping my thermos, I wondered what was happening to me.

I looked towards the ladder, and saw that it wasn't that cranky neighbor, but a couple of masked men. Their bodies covered in body armor, a face mask, and mirror goggles.

What-

 **A/N: I've got to stop ending the chapters this way.**

 **When we get to the arena, the chapters will be longer. I hope.**


	5. District 9

**Mazie MacDonald's POV**

I hated this.

The quarter quell, weren't we supposed to hear what it was six months ago? What was the quell? How were we supposed to prepare ourselves for it if we didn't even know what it was? Were the twelve year olds supposed to be the ones to be afraid of this year? No volunteers so that we might be let off a little easier with the careers? No sponsors so that we didn't have to put on a huge show for the Capitol and just be ourselves?

What was it?

I sighed and shuttered at the unknown. It was scary to think about. Really, I didn't like facing things that I couldn't plan for. I mean, did I have to look out more for myself or for my fourteen year old brother and twelve year old sister? Would my youngest sibling, Euphrasie, be chosen because of the quell? Or would it only be boys and I'd have to worry about Peter?

Maybe it was adults only, so I'd have to worry about my mom and dad being chosen? What would it be like watching your parents participate in the arena, knowing that there was nothing you could do? Having the roles reversed?

It was driving me insane wondering just what the Capitol had thought of oh so long ago. What dark twist would they put into the game this quarter century?

The games. Most of the people around here hated them. Despised them. They wanted them banished from existence. They wanted to take down the Capitol because of the way they ruled our lives. They way that they live in a land of riches, while us in District Nine starve. That's where the rebels come in. There were people that talked of how the rebels were going to be our saviors. That they were going to eventually take down the Capitol and free us from their hold and banish the games.

And while I can see why people would want to get rid of the games, bring down the Capitol, and support the rebels, I saw it another way. A way that seemed to be unheard of.

I was indifferent to the games. I didn't like them myself, but they were there for a reason. To punish us for the rebellion against them in the first place. To remind us that we shouldn't do that again.

The people up in the Capitol, I actually felt sorry for them. After all, what do they do up there all day? It seems that they do nothing except for wait for the games to arrive. What do they do in their spare time? I haven't seen them except on TV when when the games are on, so I can't really imagine.

And then there were the rebels. I actually didn't like them. They were all talking of fighting the peacekeepers and liberating the district, but I had seen their work. They were violent and not afraid of causing destruction. If they really were going to up their fight, then the whole district would become a war zone. And then what of my family? I didn't want them to become involved in it. Even my father, who was only rebellious with the words he said about the Capitol, didn't want to get involved in a war. If things were bad now, they were only going to get worse with a war.

The rebels could take a lesson from my mother. She insists that if I don't like something, change it, but in the proper way. And while my mother isn't as smart as the rest of the family, she can have some surprising advice at times. Because of her, I thought of a better way to make things better for the district. Or at least, my family.

It was studying at school, so that I could be something better than a field picker. I could make more money because I'd be getting a better job. More money in order to help support my family better, and maybe help out the district.

Be able to grow more crops or get better equipment for the medical center. That was something that was going to help the district. It was peaceful, it didn't hurt people, and it was safe. And I could make it happen if I got that good job that my family fully supported in me getting.

But instead, the rebels went out of their way to harm people. How would attacking peacekeepers help us in anyway? All it seemed to do was make them more brutal in their ways, and the Capitol always sent in more. If the rebels injured a peacekeeper, he'd be replaced. If fifty were injured, they'd be replaced. If any number of them died, they'd be replaced.

If anything, the rebels were making this place worse than before. The district wasn't perfect before, but at least we knew what to expect. And now... We were heading into the unknown. I dreaded what the future would hold.

A knocking sound occurred at my door.

"Mazie," My mother's soft voice called from outside my room. "Your friends, Wheata and Barley are here. Why don't you take a break and come join them while we get ready for your sister's birthday party."

Was it that late already?

I looked outside my window and saw that the sun was a little past high noon. It really was that late. Well, I guess I could take a break from my studies. After all, I had spent all morning with them. And it was my sister's birthday, what kind of sister would I be if I didn't spend time with her on her special day?

"Okay, I will." I answered, setting down my pencil.

I got out of my seat and looked at myself in the mirror. I saw a short, frail girl barely over five feet tall with pale skin, green-blue eyes, with slightly wavy hair that couldn't decide weither it wanted to be dirty blonde or brown.

Running my fingers through my hair, I quickly made it less of a mess and got my long bangs to stick down. It didn't cover the freckles that ran across my nose, but it did cover my eye brows.

Good enough, I thought to myself before I headed down to be with my friends and family.

 **Harvest "Harv" Miller's POV**

"I'm going out," I told my cousin, Monty. "I'll be back soon."

"Where are you going?" He asked as he set down his glass of deep red liquid. Getting plastered. Of course he was getting plastered, what else would he be doing the day before the reapings? He said that it brought back too many bad memories and that he'd like to forget about them for a few hours at least. That was his story, and I could see why he'd want to have that happen. But then again, he didn't really need an excuse to drink, it just made him seem less like a drunkard and more of someone that was suffering on the inside. He was both, though I didn't know where one started and the other ended. And being a victor, he could afford his alcohol and afford to consume it to his heart's content.

"Out," I answered simply. "And you know where."

"You really think that that's the best thing to do right now?" He asked. "Peacekeeper patrols are higher than normal, and will be for some time until the games end."

"They haven't caught me these last few years, why would they catch me now?" Monty shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't know? Bad luck? You finally run into a peacekeeper and they question you?"

"Like that's ever going to happen." I told him. "Besides, the dogs that the peacekeepers are bringing in aren't going to be like those dumb mutts we've been dealing with. Those dogs are trained to not get distracted by noise, so we could blow those whistles all we want, those dogs have some kind of defense against them and won't hold their heads down or anything. The rebels have to know about that if they're going to have a change to change the district."

"And if that's true, won't they be better trained to sniff out people like you and your rebel friends?" He asked. Well, not so much as asked, but informed.

"They're not here yet, so I've still got time to warn them." I explained to him. "I mean, can you imagine what would happen to the rebels if they don't know about those dogs? The dogs will smell them out as they do their activities. They'll be captured and tortured for information, and then they'll tell the peacekeepers what they want to know, and before you know it, boom, end of the rebellion." I explained to him as I used my arms and hands to give him a picture of how serious it was.

"The rebellion hasn't even started yet." He stated.

"No, the war hasn't started yet." I corrected him. "The rebellion has started, I'm a part of it, and if we are lucky, there won't need to be a war. If we can get the peacekeepers to surrender, we can have less casualties than if District Nine turns into a full blown battle ground."

"I guess if less of our people die the better," Monty sighed as he sipped his drink. "Wouldn't mind if the peacekeepers suffer some though."

"Not just the peacekeepers," I said. "The entire Capitol will suffer. We'll make them know what our lives have been like for over three hundred years."

"So what, you want to give him the Hunger Games experience as well?"

"No. Nobody deserves those. I may despise the Capitol, but even the Hunger Games would be too much of a punishment for them."

Though I wanted the Capitol to be brought down by the very people I idolized, there were just some things that should never be brought into existence. If I live long enough to become a high ranking rebel, then I'll make sure to try and not make the Hunger Games become another part of our lives in a free Panem.

The Capitol may of murdered my family thanks to Monty's refusal to cooperate with them, but even I knew when to show mercy. If the games showed up with Capitol kids in them, then they'd be suffering for someone else's war. Just like we were right now.

I may be someone who's muscular and looks like a fighter because I always seemed to look angry with light grey eyes, but really, I was more like what people thought of me as. Younger. Because of the pale skin, near shoulder length dark brown hair, and rosy cheeks, I appeared to be younger than seventeen.

Monty was the opposite. At twenty five years old, he looked harmless with his dark skin and short hair, but you don't become a Hunger Games victor by looking harmless.

"You think that whatever you have planned for them will be enough to avenge our families?" He asked.

I looked at him as I narrowed my eyes at him, feeling anger rise up from within me.

"Hey," I said harshly. "You started this, you know."

And like that, I was out of the victor house, slamming the door behind me before he could utter a word.

 **A/N: Less than 2,000 words!? Well, I tried.**

 **I'm going away to the military Christmas party for the weekend, so don't expect any activity from me in the later part of tomorrow, Saturday, and the earlier part of Sunday. So for some of you with reserved SYOT spots, prepare to submit your tributes if you reserved before or on the 29th of Nov, otherwise it'll be unreserved.**


	6. District 11

**Briony Wells**

"You shouldn't be doing that." I told my older brother, Savor, as he stuck some carrots in his over sized boots.

"Hey," He said calmly to me. "We shouldn't be doing a lot of things, but we're doing them aren't we?" He then pulled his boots back on tightly and stepped around a little, making sure that he wasn't going to crush any of the vegetables at his feet as he walked. "I mean, we shouldn't be out here slaving away for those in their castles and watching kids like you worry about getting sent to their deaths."

"Well you don't need to be sent to your death earlier than necessary," I reminded him. "Just because you're nineteen and past reaping age doesn't mean you won't die a premature death."

"Spare me the lecture, Bri, if I wanted someone to do that I'd go to mom. You know that I'm fighting for a good cause, and even though I ain't fighting on the front lines, I'm still doing my part to help."

I sighed as I thought of my brother joining the rebels. Ever since he got in with them he's been obsessed with them. He's doing everything he can to help them because he thinks that when they come out on top everything will be all right. That everything will be the way we want them to be.

I can see why he'd think that as he absolutely hates the Capitol and isn't afraid to say it. Despite what most people think, the peacekeepers won't harass you for dissing the Capitol unless there's a Capitol official around, but most people don't want to take the chance that the peacekeepers will actually do something to them. Still, at least he's smart enough not to say it to the faces of the peacekeepers if he can help it.

Though with the rebel supporters I have meet myself, the only thing that makes him special is that he's the only one brave enough to say bad things about the Capitol if there are peacekeepers nearby. Nobody else does that on purpose. Other than that, he's kind of the same as everyone else, myself included. We don't like the games that the Capitol brought along and how many people have suffered because of it.

We agree that the Capitol looks beautiful, because when you look at District Eleven, it is not a good place. You see poverty everywhere, and you wish that you could live somewhere else. But how could so much of our suffering make the Capitol so beautiful? I just couldn't believe that the Capitol could be like that while we live in a place like District Eleven and live life day by day, hour by hour even.

But our thoughts about the rebels, that's where my brother and I change our thoughts.

While he supports the rebels wholeheartedly, I actually feel a mixture of support and non-support to the rebels. While I agree with what they're trying to do, as in free ourselves from the hold of the Capitol's rule and abuse, I don't agree with some of their beliefs. Winning by any means necessary was one of them. I mean, didn't they kick down someone's door and brutalize them because they thought that someone was ratting them out? All they did was go to the peacekeepers and complained about the loud commotion that was happening.

Instead of going into a big long debate about it, if someone asks me if I support the rebels or not, I tell them that I don't give a damn about the rebels. Win or lose, nothing will change. The only thing that will change for sure is who's ruling us.

"If that's the way you feel." I replied, going back to tending the crops before a peacekeeper came over and saw that I wasn't working.

"It is how I feel." Savor replied. "And I'm pretty sure that two of your friends are feeling the same way I'm feeling. Meadow and Lark? That's their names, right?"

"Please don't suck them into that." I told him, not bothering to look back. I kind of saw that coming. After all, Meadow, has a huge crush on my brother and looks for every opportunity to get closer to him. And even though she's my age and my brother is three years older, it doesn't stop her from trying. A friendly girl who likes to laugh, I don't want her to get involved with the rebels. It might change her.

And then there was Lark. Sarcastic, pessimistic, and has a burning hatred for District Eleven, she wants to join the rebels and agrees with their ideas. Tall with a shaved head, she looks like she'd fit right in with them.

"Like I'd try to get your friends to do something that they didn't want to do." My brother laughed.

"Yeah. Like how you try to get Beck to do something he doesn't want to do." I countered with sarcasm and a dry voice.

"Beck's old enough to know what he wants." Savor replied.

"He's nine, and your brother. He looks up to you and thinks you're a hero. So when you ask him to help you with your rebel cause, don't you think you're manipulating him?"

"If he wants to help me, so be it." Savor argued. There was no use arguing with my brother, so I wasn't going to waste my breath. I gave up.

As the second oldest of six siblings, Savor being the oldest, I couldn't see how he could think like that. He was putting Beck in danger with those risky bonding time activities they played together. It might be because I don't agree with the rebels through and through, or it may be because I'm a girl, but I can't see how he can't worry about them. If anything were to happen to my siblings, or friends, I don't know how I'd feel. Devastated would probably be most accurate. Though I don't tell Savor that word for word as he keeps on saying that everything will be fine.

My family. My friends. They're what makes me struggle through life. I don't want to lose any of them.

I wish that I could look more like my dad at times. My mother and I share the same features. Skin like light chocolate, brown eyes surrounded by thick lashes, soft facial features, and curly black hair on top normally worn in a bun. With a lean frame bordering on the thinner side.

And while my mother is quiet and peaceful person, by dad can be the same. In a way.

My dad, quiet, kind, generous. Being a tall man with no hair and being really strong as well, his quiet nature just seems to add to his strength. But what I'd really want are his eyes. Intimidating and harsh, he could look at someone and they'd think twice about whatever they were thinking. That, and he doesn't show much emotions, or expressions on his face in general. It's really weird. And scary at times.

If I had his eyes, I could look at Savor, Beck, Meadow, and Lark, and not even have to use words to get my point across.

With other people my looks are enough to get people to think twice, but with my family and friends, no such luck, they know that I won't do anything to them, being one to avoid confrontation as much as possible. Violent and otherwise. That I ain't that scary, really. My father however...

Before I knew it, the lunch bell rang out, signaling our fifteen minute lunch break. "We'll, I'll see you after lunch. Got a delivery to attend to." My brother said as he patted his boots before he stood up and left.

"Later." I muttered before I dusted myself off before I went off to find Meadow. Shame that Lark and her sister, Aspyn, didn't work in the same field as us.

 **Delias Aldrich**

If there was one thing that people tended to complain a lot about it was life. Sure, life in District Eleven wasn't a pleasant place, but if you didn't like something, change it. It wouldn't be easy, but nobody ever said that life was easy. Nor did they ever say it was fair, because if it was, we wouldn't be in the situation we were in right now.

But no, some people were constantly complaining about their situation and not doing a damn thing to change it. They said that you couldn't change something in District Eleven, but that was actually a lie, you could change something. Or at least attempt to change it and make it better.

I was only twelve years old, but I was already trying to make life better for at least some people in the district. And if not for my mother and myself, then the rebels, because while they complain about the situation in the district at least they're actually doing something to try and change it. And that's why, even though the two of us are so low in the district's food chain, we provide them with what we can.

Sewing up their clothes or makeshift Armour, sheltering them from the peacekeepers, that kind of thing. It's not much, but they appreciate the support we give them. In return, sometimes they give us supplies in return.

Sure, buttons and needles and threat might not seem like much, but when you mom works as one of the few seamstress' in the district, those little items become very handy. They can't provide food to us, as much as we'd like, but with food being scarce for just about everyone in the district, only the rich, which is a very, very small amount of people, and the peacekeepers, can afford to life a life in comfort.

I guess that's why we aren't living a good life either. Because no matter how much I work out in the fields, we just can't seem to make enough to support as good as we'd like. And my mother is part of the problem as well, because if someone just so happens to come into her shop and needs something fixed, she'll fix it. But if they can't afford her prices, which isn't very much anyway, she'll take pity on them and do it for free.

I know that people are poor and whatever money they do have they'd like to spend on food instead of stitches for their clothes, but I can't help but think that they're taking advantage of my mother. You come in here, and say you can't afford her prices after she fixes them up for you. Well why did you bring in your clothes to be fixed if you can't afford to have them fixed?

I try to tell my mom that she has to stop taking pity on people, because if they keeps on happening, people are just going to walk all over her, just like how the Capitol walks all over us and doesn't give a damn about what happens to us.

But unlike the people here, the people in the Capitol could all die, and their city can burn to the ground for all I care. Maybe then we'll actually live a pretty good life.

That's where the rebels come in. They could make this country a better place, because they're trying to take down the Capitol and make this a better place. Because if there was one thing different about them from the Capitol and the common people of our district, they were the ones that actually cared about us. They were the only ones that showed true sympathy towards my mother and I when they learned that my father had died. The reasoning behind that was maybe because some of them were my dad's friends. Dad was never a rebel, but that didn't stop those he knew from taking that life style.

Others in the district would say that they were sorry that he had died of sunstroke, but they still took advantage of my mother. And those that didn't show sympathy towards us would tell me to get over it, that others had lost loved ones before.

That was true, but they weren't taken advantage of. I feel for those that had lost fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, and friends, but did they ever try and get a free meal from you? I thought not. And more often than not, that's what happened between our so called costumers and my mom. I hated those people.

The rebels on the other hand almost always had something for us. They couldn't provide something for us every time, but most of the time they had something, and that was more than most people.

And when they were here, they weren't complaining or anything, they were a fun group of people. They would tell stories about how they were going to free Panem and how good things were going to be once they had the numbers, resources, and the timing down. It was fun to hear.

Tasi, my one and only friend, had rebel parents and I would see them sometimes. They were nice people, and so much like her because they were always ask me to sing, even though I wasn't good at it. They were just like her.

Tasi wants me to be less serious, but she's got to understand that I only look at things the way they are. I hope she understands one day. Or maybe she already does. I don't know.

"Hey Delias," I heard Tasi's voice call out, snapping me back to reality. "You still alive?"

"Unfortunately." I told her, thinking of how life was in District Eleven.

"Hey," She said. "Don't be like that, life's not that bad." I couldn't help but laugh at that as I looked down at my dark brown hands. They were covered with scars from the brutal working environment.

If there was a mirror in front of me I would of also seen a head of curly hair, showing that I was unclean. That I was a short and starving boy. That I was wearing nothing more than rags. I was like many of those in the district. I looked the same in both body and clothes. The only thing that I had that was different was that through my dark brown eyes, I saw the world how it really was. That it was no place for a childhood.

"You're almost in the same situation as me," I told her. "So don't lie." Tasi sighed and shook her head slightly, sending her double braids flying.

"Pessimists are either right or pleasantly surprised." She sighed, repeating my catch phrase. Or so she told me. "I hope that one day you'll be surprised and that not everything is doom and gloom."

"I'd like to see that day." I told her, thinking of the Capitol taken down and the Hunger Games abolished.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow than."

"Okay. I'll see you later." I replied.

 **A/N: I'm not sure how to feel about this chapter.**

 **Thank you all who reviewed, you made me feel less sick when I saw all those reviews when I returned home. Sorry that I couldn't reply to all of you. But, thanks.**

 **I've got a poll going on in my profile, check it out and vote.**

 **District Ten is up next.**


	7. District 10

**Cornelia Withers**

Another night, another client that needs to be pleased.

As I prettied myself some more in the bathroom, I thought of this new guy. He obviously didn't want to be recognized as he had done a pretty thorough job of covering himself. Long sleeve shirt, black leather gloves, green bandanna wrapped around the lower part of his face, a worn out cap on his head, and reflective sunglasses.

Seeing someone like that might strike them as suspicious, but not me. A number of my clients didn't want to be recognized. They didn't want to take the chance that someone they knew, or someone that was close to them, would see them come to my place and see them with me. It wouldn't look good for them. So they hid themselves. Some more that others, but when the action started, they would eventually remove their disguises and enjoy the fun.

That's what they were here for after all, to enjoy the night with me. And I was going to give it to them. They were a paying costumer after all, and whatever they wanted from me, I was going to give them. Been doing it ever since I was sixteen, A.K.A last year, more than old enough to know what I wanted and how to get it. Though it had taken some time before I had discovered exactly how to get the full benefit, I had seen a path that I could take, and the farther I traveled that path, the more opportunities I could see to get the things I wanted.

Finishing myself up, I looked at myself in the mirror one last time, checking myself from all angles, making sure that things were up to satisfaction. They were, and I liked what I saw. No doubt that he would as well. How could he not?

Taking a breath, I opened the bathroom door and showed myself to the client. I heard him whistle as I emerged from that room.

"You know, when they say the greatest beauty in District Ten is you, they weren't kidding."

I let myself giggle stupidly, because that's what men like to hear. With honey blonde hair that falls to my mid-back in gentle waves, almond shaped hazel eyes, hour glass figure and curvy body with a tall body of nearly six feet tall and high cheek bones, I was the type of girl that every guy wanted. And what's more is that my skin is light. Cream coloured. A rarity in this district, and it only made the guys want me more.

"You're too kind." I told him.

"If you say so," He replied. "I'm just speaking the truth."

"So am I." I then sighed lightly and looked at him. "So, should we get to it?"

"Not just yet." The man said. "I was thinking we talk a little bit over a late dinner. See, I haven't ate yet, worked late and such, and then I came here without eating anything."

"Wouldn't your wife of made you something?" I asked, thinking of this man and him really not wanting to be recognized. The man seemed to hesitate, so I comforted him a little. "Don't worry, most men that come around here are married. They just need someone that appreciates them a little more. To be with someone different. To relive their younger years, you know?"

"I guess." The man sighed heavily. "Yeah. You're right. Anyway, I didn't go home after work, because I came straight here. I had to actually work late to make the excuse at least look legitimate. She doesn't suspect a thing."

I had thought so. Most of the male clients were older men that were married to someone else, and they came for a variety of reasons. I didn't really care what those reasons were though, as long as they paid me, that was all I cared about. And this man, who I guessed was in his forties, was nothing new. Except that he wanted to eat with me instead of going straight to the deed.

The man pulled out a couple of plastic containers from behind him before looking at me. "You want some?" He asked. I nodded before he tossed me a container. I opened the container and saw that it had rice and meat that was covered with some kind of golden brown sauce. It actually looked delicious. A fork and knife was taped on the lid, so I took them out and dug in.

"Thank you." I told him.

"You're welcome." He said before he started to eat himself. "So how did a girl like you get involved in a business like this?"

Way to start a conversation buddy. And it was simple, when I was younger, I found that guys looked at me differently than they should of. I later found out that it was because of my good looks and they were thinking dirty thoughts about me. And because I wanted the money to buy the best things a girl could get. I mean, don't pretty girls deserve the pretty dresses and enough food for her to live comfortably? The sex doesn't hurt either, but I was more for the possessions and living comfortably than anything else. Not that I was bad off in the first place, I just wanted more. Wanted the things that I deserved.

"I needed the money." I half lied. It's not that I needed the money to live, it's that I needed the money to get what I wanted.

"Such a thing that plagues this district." He sighed before he continued to eat. I was surprised at how he could get the food under his bandanna and not revel his mouth. "What do your parents thing about this?"

I don't think they know. Well, maybe my dad knows, but he's so obsessed with his work that I don't think he could notice if it were standing right in front of him, which it kind of is. He never asks me where I get the extra clothes, or where I'm going out at night, he just tells me to be careful.

He works so much so that he can provide for me, but what he doesn't know is that I can provide for myself. Not that he doesn't help. I mean, thanks to him, I have an extra layer of protection in case things go sour. As long as he keeps on working and bringing in the cash, I don't ever have to worry about not having enough. I can continue living the high life.

As for mom, she's the reason dad works as much as he does. When she died, he wanted to make sure that that didn't happen to me. So he worked and worked and worked some more, hardly ever being there with me, but he was there for me. Thanks to him, I was able to live comfortably. But nothing more.

"They know nothing." I answered.

"I thought so." He nodded. "The things that Capitol makes us do by living in the district while they live in the riches. Give us the Hunger Games so that pretty young things like you can die. At least there's the rebels trying to help us. What do you think about all that?"

"Don't think anything about it. Because frankly, I don't care." I answered. The reason I don't care is simple. In Panem, you have to look after yourself, and not rely on someone else so much that you start depending on them. Like the rebels, they reply on each other to keep each other safe and stuff. Same with the peacekeepers, they can't be by themselves, so they latch onto each other to help protect each other.

So while they're thinking about the people next to them, I'm thinking about how I can continue on living. I'm not getting distracted by the fighting of the two groups, because if you need to put food on the table, why should you get sucked into their fighting and politics? I'll only get you behind.

And for the Hunger Games, it's something that's a part of life. Something that you have to accept, whether you want to or not. It's always been there, you live with it, so accept it.

But most of all, if you say you support one or the other, the opposition will target you, and I didn't want that.

"Do all your friends share that view?" He asked calmly as he continued to eat.

"I wouldn't know," I told him. "They don't talk about it a lot." I suspected that Nina hated both groups because her boyfriend died when he was caught in the crossfire with one of the fights between the rebels and the peacekeepers.

As for Tristan, he was the head peacekeeper. And with a guy called Carter, he never said anything, so I wouldn't know. Those two weren't my friends, but they were the people that came to see me the most.

"Shame," The man sighed as he took another bite of rice. "I would of loved to hear Carter Reynolds' views of the conflict." I stopped eating when I heard that name being spoken. "I've seen him come in here a couple of times," The man continued, like he noticed my curiosity. "He's quiet and keeps to himself, so I was just wondering who's side he was on."

"Yeah, well, even if I did know, it's confidential." I said to him, trying to get a reading on who this person was. He was covered in clothes, so I couldn't see his facial expressions. And he was talking in a stoic and mellow voice while not making any obvious body movements. I couldn't get a reading on this man.

"Well ain't that the darnedest thing." The man said before I heard a soft PHOW. Suddenly, I started to feel tired. Really tired. The world started to spin and I didn't know what was happening.

The man continued to eat calmly as he spoke evenly. His voice getting farther and farther away. "I guess I'll find out some other ti-

 **Dyami Vale**

I felt wonderful. This was truly a great night.

It had started slowly, but it wasn't boring. Coby Macellaio, a sweet little pickpocket had been out scamming people out of their money again. I was his assistant for a little while, either distracting people as he took whatever valuables they had foolishly left in their pockets. Oblivious to what was happening to them. And then there was that card game that he favored. It was simple, it was effective, and if things went to shit, he could easily collapse shop and make a break for it.

The two of us had made some pretty good coin before a group of peacekeepers ruined our fun, but we still managed to get away, like we always did.

And what we were going to do with the money we had so rightfully earned? We spent it. We spent it all. The place that we spent it all on was at our usual place. A bar in the shady part of the district. Hard to locate unless you knew where to look, and we knew where to look.

Another friend of mine, , Fallow Gailan, was the owner of said bar, and he was a great talker and supplier. And tonight, he had some good stuff packaged for us. And not just for us, but for the rest of the customers that were crawling into the bar.

If there was one thing that brought us all together, it was the stuff that he managed to get a hold of and distribute. People flocked to him, and with all these people here, it made it that much better.

Taking to a table filled with eager people, we started our night with cigarettes, alcohol, and drugs. Heavy grey smoke filled the air as laughter and competition took over.

Jokes were told, threats were received, fights broke out, and it was great. It was great getting that high that only narcotics could produce, it was great seeing people arguing before a fight broke out, and it was great to be with fun people in general. People that wanted to live their lives to the fullest. And there was no better time than pre-reaping day.

The Hunger Games, that was something to be excited about. I mean, you get to see how people are in their final days of their lives. How they react and how they live their final hours. And then there's their costumes in the Capitol. And lets not forget the people. They were beautiful, and what they did was beautiful as well.

There's talk about the Capitol and the rebels, but for all I'm concerned, I don't give a fuck about either of them. As long as they stay out of my way and let me live my life the way I want to live it, they can do whatever the hell they want. And that's what they've done so far. I was happy about that.

Chatting up with some of the drunks, I could see how some of them were eyeing my up. Some of them weren't that bad looking, so I decided to take an interest in them. They flirted with me, so I flirted back. And weather or not I was a girl or not didn't seem to matter to them. They were either too intoxicated by the effects of the drugs or the alcohol, or they just didn't care. Either way, I was okay with that.

It was easy to see me as a girl even if you weren't intoxicated. Dark brown skin with a long, waist length braid of black hair, a short slender figure, and dark brown eyes. And if that wasn't enough, there were the dresses that I wore and the make up, mascara, lipstick, eye shadow, whatever I can afford at the time, I wear. Still, that doesn't make me any less of a guy.

So when I finally chat a guy up, I can bring them somewhere private with me to get physically closer. Much closer.

Drugs, alcohol, sex. All of those three and lots of it. That's my life.

Probably something that most parents would do their best to keep their kids out of, but my parents didn't keep me out of it. They embraced it.

My mother and my older sister, they lived off those things. We might not of had much, but what we did have were plenty of vices. And in District Ten, you start to see that it's full of vice if you know where to look. I'm guessing it's the same with Districts Eleven and Twelve, since they're so much like us.

So a party house of drugs, alcohol, and sex were where I lived. Stealing, dealing, and violence were my accessories.

I took a drag of my cigarette as I thought of all that before sighing with joy.

"Well that was fun," I said happily. "What did you think sweet cheeks?"

There was no answer. Just the dripping of thick liquid hitting the floor. "Yeah... I thought you'd say that." I said to the freshly deceased corpse.

With his head shattered, pieces of his skull were laying at the head of the bed and some were on the ground as well. Chunks of his brain were either staining the sheets or staining the floor. I believe that his lower jaw was on the night stand. Teeth were laying in a crude circle around where his mouth used to be. And let's not forget the gaping hole in his neck and those ribs sticking out of his chest. And there was blood. Blood was everywhere. On the corpse, on the sheets, the pillows, the floor, the wall behind him, on me. So much crimson painted the area. And the body, the body was so disfigured.

It was a shame. I thought he'd last longer. After all, the sex with him was pretty damn bad, so I thought he'd make up for it in the violence. He disappointed me. He didn't last very long. You'd think with all the drugs coursing through his system he'd of lasted longer, but no, disappointment.

Not like my family. My mother and older sister, Kata, they lasted a good long while. Their screams were sweet music as I slowly carved them open.

They might not of lasted the longest, but they were the ones that brought me the most pleasure. Maybe it was because I was getting revenge on them for putting me into a life I did not want. Maybe it was because I never liked them in the first place. Maybe it was because they were my first. And as people always say, you never forget your first.

Sixteen years old and my life can be summed up as a liquor drinking, rail snorting, chain smoking, murdering machine. Was it a good life? Hard to say. It's not what people would call a good childhood, but was I ever going to live into adulthood? No. No I wasn't.

But all in all, it was my life, and I liked it.

Snuffing out my spent cigarette, I looked back at the body and sighed.

Time to clean up.

 **A/N: I like this chapter.**

 **I'm going away for a bit, family stuff and a party. So don't expect me to have any activity for at least a day.**

 **Up next is District Six, because if at all possible, I want to do the careers last.**


	8. District 6

**Tracker Hornsby**

It was an easy job for easy money. At least, that's what they told you and that's what you expected. All I had to do was carry the passenger's luggage in and out of the trains, and since most of them were Capitol, you could expect them to be making demands at you. They'd tell you to go faster, to watch their valuables, and most of all, they'd tell you to make sure that nothing got lost.

They often got mad at me and my co-workers, but who really gives a fuck about what they think? They're Capitol, and I'm pretty sure that they treat everyone like dirt when nobody important to them is watching.

And then there were the wealthy folks that traveled from one part of the district to the next. As much as they wanted to, they could never leave the district. Nobody could. They were in the same position as us, but I had only the slimmest bit more respect for them than the Capitol. Both them and the rich folks, they don't deserve their wealth. Or at least, the vast majority of them. The only ones that deserved their wealth were the victors, because they were the only ones that earned their riches.

The Capitol people were born into their wealth, knowing nothing else and looking down at us like we were crap on their shoes. And the rich folks in our district, they didn't deserve it either. Instead of giving some to a better cause, they horde it for themselves. They're little better than the Capitol.

So who can blame me and my friends if we nick a few items here and there for those rich folks. Not like they'd miss the things that we take from them.

Small items, nothing noticeable.

And so, we were from earning little more than barely surviving wages, to we might actually be able to not always be hungry wages. The risks were high because if we were caught even once, it was going to be trouble. Public whippings the best possible outcome.

Yeah. Lugging around luggage and stealing things, that was relatively easy. The long hours that we had to endure, that was a little harder. The hard part about the job was actually in front of us.

Taking the lead, I stepped up towards the four other kids in front of us. The one that was leading them, the one that was walking towards me with an arrogant smile on his face, was the biggest one of them.

The difference between him was like night and day. He was a tall dark skinned kid that was lean and looked capable of holding his own in a fight. I on the other hand was short for my fifteen years of age, skinny and pale with near shoulder length black hair. And while I had some muscle, it wasn't as much as him.

We both had brown eyes and scars. He had several across his face, I had a small one under my left eye.

"Here's the deal," He said to me. "You chumps hand over your worthwhile supplies, and we don't beat the shit out of you."

"Offer refused." I stated before arched a fist right into his throat. The enemy leader, taken by complete surprise, temporarily stopped breathing as his air supply got disrupted.

Within moments, his three followers rushed towards us. My friends did the same.

I continued to hit the enemy leader as my two friends focused on the three hostiles.

Nico Tram, my first recruit, was only twelve, but he could handle himself pretty well in a fight, so I didn't need to worry about him. And as for Bela Stock, my fourteen year old second in command, she was the best fighter in my group, so even I really didn't need to worry about her.

Kicking the enemy leader behind the knees, he dropped to his knees before I delivered a sharp blow to his lower jaw. Unable to do anything, I continued my assault on him. A punch to the side of the head, a straight hit to the face, a knee to the gut, followed by a powerful over hand swing to the back of his head, and his face was on the ground.

I didn't want to take my chances with him getting back up and attacking me from behind, so I gave him a powerful kick to the face. Blood sprayed from his mouth, and he didn't dare try to get back up.

I turned to my friends, and saw that they were finishing up their opponents.

Besides stealing, fighting was the thing we were good at. We needed to be. There were more than one transport station, and there was fierce competition between them. One always wanted more, so they took from the other luggage carriers. And if I was going to be the leader of my group, or even survive this job, I couldn't be afraid to fight other kids. Even if they were bigger, stronger, or older.

Just like the rebels that I looked up to, I couldn't be afraid of fighting and risking a beating from a more powerful force.

They hated the Hunger Games and the Capitol as much as I did, and they did something about it. They weren't afraid of fighting them, so just like them, I couldn't be afraid of fighting someone bigger and stronger than me.

My friends finished up their fight and started to search their downed opponents for anything good. I did the same.

 **Felix di Mauro**

This is where I belonged.

The inside of this auto shop with my father, covered in grease and oil, fixing whatever was in front of me, improving them, watching sparks fly and having the danger of burning myself or crushing my fingers. Isolated from the world and from others. That was where I belonged, not in the wide open world of District Six, or damn well anywhere else.

In here there was nothing worry about, nothing to be afraid of. In here, I could do what I wanted to do, and that was working on machinery. And currently, the world of circuitry was calling my name, and I responded to it, making it whole again. Making it better than it was originally. Something that I wanted for my family. But wasn't that something that everyone wanted? Something better than it originally was? And in life in general?

After all, we were scrapping through as we were at the moment, and even though we got people always coming and going, wanting our services, we still had to rely on other methods to keep us alive. It involved stealing, but that wasn't something that was rare, because if my little eight year old sister stole, who was I to say that she and I were the only damn ones?

My padre, madre, and hermana were good at trying to keep us alive. Doing what they could so that we could continue on living.

Padre was just your everyday mechanic, so he didn't really earn a lot. My madre wanted to be a medic before her life went down the tube and had us, but even so, she smiles through it all, even as a lowly canteen cook. And my little hermana, a thief, beggar, and pickpocket of the rich did her best to support us as well.

But my younger, twelve year old hermano, Pace, was the god damn lazy one of the family. Incompetent and only wanted to read in his fucking room was a let down and would of been nothing more than a burden if he wasn't so good at taking care of our youngest.

Those three year olds we just got, they can't do anything for us yet, but I hope that in the future that they'll be some sort of hydraulic that'll help our family go up instead of down. Or at the very least, they'll help us stay stable.

But despite those flaws, if there was one thing that my parents told me to remember, it was familia es eterna. Family is eternal. I'd say that that's just a load of bullshit because family does die, but from the way they described it to me, that no matter what happens, you'll always have your family with you forever. In the flesh or in memory, and that they're the only ones that'll be with you in the thick and thin of everything. Sure, I could see that.

Family really is everything, that's why at fourteen, I'm not attending school and learning. Instead, I'm here fixing things, supporting my family. Have been since I was eleven, but school was never something I missed anyway, nothing exciting never happened there, and the only thing I cared about there was learning about the building and tinkering of the auto shops.

Some say that I'll never make something of my life, but what do they know? I can build things that they can't even wrap their heads around, so I'd say that the only thing they have going in their lives is telling me that I'll be a fuckwit like them.

One day, someone will see me for my skills, and when that day comes, I'll be the one working on the trains that pass in and out of our district. Or maybe, just maybe, something more. They won't care about the crippled kid who can't use her leg properly because it got crushed in the past, they'll see someone who can get things done and do them well. And those bastardos will be the ones eating their words.

And probably one of the better things about those jobs is that I won't have to be with people. Well, there will be people, but I won't have to interact with them. Not that any of them would want to interact with me anyway. One look at me and they'd be turning around and looking for someone else to chat with.

With a brown complexion that was peppered with scars, burns, and scabs, it looked like I fought with animals everyday. Straight black hair that was chopped short, it was a crude haircut made my yours truly with a knife. five foot seven, scrawny, gaunt, heavy eye brows, so thin that you could see my ribs if I lifted my shirt, I wasn't something that people tended to look at. With breasts non-existent, the only way that people could tell I was a girl was because of my developed hips. I hated those fucking hips.

Then there was my fractured leg. It was better now, but I still limped.

When you lived in the lowest of the low in District Six, you didn't expect to be a beauty. Not that I really cared, if I had been good looking before, the hard work and being streaked with oil and burns and injuries would of taken it all away anyway.

"How are things going in here mi hija?" I heard my Padre ask from the other side of his shop. I removed my soldering pen from the circitry and looked to him.

"Things are going great Padre," I told him. "The fucking device those assholes wanted, I couldn't figure out what this shit was, but then I found the connection between one piece of shit to the next. Now those assholes will get what they want."

"Well this is the first time in a while that your building something that you haven't seen before." He laughed. "And yet, you're building it to perfection."

The device was almost complete, but I still didn't know what it was, nor what it was used for. All I knew was that it was nearly as flat and as big as a large dinner plate. It appeared to have some sort of pressure plate on its top, and that there were six more to go.

"I wouldn't say fucking perfection, pero es mejor que los pendejos buscados originalmente. (but it's better than the assholes originally wanted.)"

"I'm sure they'll be very pleased with it too." My padre commented with a smile. "Be proud of yourself mi hija, smile, be happy."

"I am happy." I replied. He and madre said that I didn't show enough emotion, I didn't think so.

"So you are," He said before turning to the pile of unfinished devices on my workbench. "Are you going to stay up all night and work?"

"If I must," I answered. "Coños quieren lo que quieren los coños . Y si no consiguen , que empujan un puto soplete su puto culo. (Cunts want what cunts want. And if they don't get, they shove a fucking blowtorch up your fucking asshole.)

"At least they're our cunts and not some Capitol assholes." My padre replied.

The Capitol. I hated them with a burning passion. I hate them for what they've done to us. What they've done to me. I hate their fucking Hunger Games. It makes me sick both literally and figuratively. Those deaths of others are cruel. So cruel that I can't watch them.

They live the dream life, and they torture us.

There's talk about rebel groups in the district, and while I don't know them, I support their idea of a free Panem. Do I think they'll succeed in their goal? No. I don't. The Capitol has ruled us for three hundred years, and there's a reason they've had control for so long. They've crushed no more than two major rebellions, what makes a single group of rebels think that they'll make any changes.

I might not know much about them, but I know that they'd be better if they didn't try. The Capitol is too power, and their peacekeepers as well.

Peacekeepers...

...

...

...

I nearly ruin all my hard work, almost burning through the hard plastic. I shake my head and rid myself of those thoughts and memories. "Something wrong?" My padre asks.

"Fuck all." I tell him.

"Well, it's late, if you see yourself falling asleep again, don't hesitate to hit the bed."

"I will." I answered. "Te amo. Noche. Nos vemos en la mañana." (Love you. Night. See you in the morning.)

 **A/N: Sorry that I didn't reply to your reviews, again.**

 **I know that not everyone can update everyday, and it shouldn't be expected, but here's why I didn't update earlier if anyone cares. I couldn't get a hold of a couple of my friends, I lost one of their numbers, thoughts happened, I started to worry, I felt bad, stuff happened.**

 **In other, better, news, my poll that was up for a couple of weeks, I expected the results to kind of be like what it was. 70% went for the up side, while 30% went for the down side. Why? I can only imagine that people would rather be reckless and believe that they can fly as the voice of God tells them to jump from the top floor of a building rather than feeling like you're literally nothing as demons tell you how worthless you are and constantly tell you to slit your throat.**

 **On a less somber note, my brother has finished a manga series and is looking for another one to read. Don't ask me what it was, I didn't ask. If you've got any ideas, tell me.**

 **District Five is up next. Hopefully I get it out within a week.**


	9. District 5

**Alaria Grindetti**

A spark is something that starts out small. Insignificant, almost unnoticeable, and something that can flicker out before it can grow. But a spark can also get larger, it can grow and create a fire. Left on it's own, it can thrive and create something that we as humans wanted, something that we thought we needed to survive. And that fire can also give us a new look at life that we thought we never knew.

It's light would slice through the night and expose the secrets of the dark, creating new paths and letting you decide whether or not you want to travel a road you never knew existed.

A new look on life. A new path to take. A whole other world that could be explored.

To me, that's what my spark represented. Her name was Heryna, she showed me a world I never knew. She taught me the truth about the world. And for her, I was painting on the wall near where the reapings held place. It was away from the cameras, so nobody could see me, and even if they could they wouldn't recognize me. The yellow bandanna that I wore around my mouth made sure of that. The only thing they could see was that it was someone with olive skin and dark brown, wavy hair. And it's not like they'd be able to see my brown eyes.

Taking aerosol spray cans of paint, I combined the colours sprayed on the wall to make a picture. A picture of a peacekeeper being strapped down and electrocuted by some kind of torture device. The picture was crude and could of been better if I were more artistic, but the captions above and below the picture were perfection.

Above the tortured peacekeeper read: Use our power.

Below the peacekeeper read: To fight their power.

I was proud of it, and if it got more people to come to the rebel cause, so much the better. But at the very least, all I wanted to do was piss off the peacekeeper and anyone that supported them and the Capitol. It was what Heryna liked to do, and though she wasn't part of the rebel forces, she played her part.

I did it for her and the rebels, so that some part of her could live on and that she didn't die in vain.

When the peacekeepers caught her, she was brought to one of her anti-authoritative wall paintings, and in front of an audience, they executed her, spraying brain matter all over her art. They then told us that she was dead and that her art work was dead as well. They were wrong. Her art was still alive, and her spirit was still alive inside me. Through me, she was still supporting the rebels and pissing off the peacekeepers.

It severely pissed off my parents and former friends as well, as they were all heavily pro-Capitol. But what did they know? They were blind, just as I used to be. And they were the cause of Heryna's death.

I had told my friends about her. Told them that even though we were from different lives, me being the daughter of one of the richest families in District Five. Someone that was tall and curvy, and not starving along with being a big Capitol supporter. Someone that thought that the Capitol was the district saviors and that without them we'd be in anarchy.

Heryna on the other hand was from one of the poorest families in the district. She was short and thin, and was no stranger to being hungry. A huge rebel supporter, someone that thought that the Capitol needed to be taken down so that we could live without the games and that the Capitol could stop hording all the resources the districts produced.

At first I was against her beliefs, but the more and more we talked, the more and more I started to agree with her. And soon, I was helping her with her art and other rebellious activities. Not just because she was a pretty girl that I wanted to be with, but because I was supporting the rebel cause. I loved her.

But then my friends told my mother, and in turn, my mother told the peacekeepers, and they killed her.

Now because of the way my love opened my eyes, I wish to see the Capitol annihilated. Everyone in that place can burn. I don't care if they're pregnant women, children, or babies, all of the Capitol is the same. An evil that needs to be destroyed.

"Alaria," A voice quietly called out to me. I turned to see who it was, and saw that it came from my former friend, Xavia. With pale skin, snow white hair and red eyes, she wasn't hard to spot in the darkness. Beside her, tall and muscular, was Porter, another one of my former friends. "You know that you shouldn't be out at night. Or doing that."

I gave out a loud sigh, facing them fully.

"I don't remember inviting you two." I spat at them. "And if I wanted an opinion from either of you I would of asked."

"As I've said before a million times," Xavia said. "I'm sorry that I told your mom about her. But it's been three years and you're still avoiding us."

"How about I kill your mother and you try to talk to me again." I countered.

"It's not the same." She tried to reason. "You only knew her for, how long, a month and you think she's the most important person to you?"

"More important than you two will ever be to me."

"She was a rebel. She didn't really care about you, she just wanted you for their stupid cause. She changed you so that she could use you." She said in that know it all voice that I found very annoying.

I threw the spray can at her, missing her.

"You have no idea what you're talking about." I growled at her. "She showed me the truth. You're just blind."

"You know," Xavia said with tears starting to leak from her eyes. "I thought that we could be friend again. I've been trying so hard for years now. I didn't want to believe it, but all you are is a selfish bitch that only cares about herself because we made a mistake. A mistake because we just wanted the best for you. We didn't know that she was going to get killed, but we were just worried about you."

Xavia then turned around and started to walk away. Porter looked at me, shook her head, and followed behind her.

"Fuck you." I said to them. They were pro-Capitol, they told my mom because Heryna was a rebel supporter. Simple as that.

 **Amaury Vernis**

If one were to ask me what the people around here were thinking, I'd be unable to answer.

It wasn't that I couldn't tell what they were feeling, because from the looks on their faces and the way that their words sounded, I would guess that they were miserable. And from the way that they treated my family and I, I'd say that most of them thought that we were easy targets for bullying and making us look stupid. But even with all that, I couldn't say what they were thinking, because I couldn't ask them.

For them, they knew nothing of the world outside of Panem. Panem was their home, Panem was their life, Panem was all they knew. And while I knew next to nothing about Panem, I knew what the world was like up in what they called the wilds. Up in the great north.

Up there, there was a place called Louerren, and that was where my family and I were originally from. It was a place that was run by a military dictatorship, and it was a horrible life. People up in my homeland feared the military that ran the place. People were starved and slaved, held together by the fear of being kidnapped and tortured at night and never knowing if you were going to return or not. I heard that people do return home, in several pieces.

And my family, not wanting to live in that shadow of terror, fled Louerren. It wasn't easy, but we managed to get out. And we continued to travel until we reached Panem. My father had died because of some giant wasps, but we had made it. It would of been what he wanted.

When we first arrived, none of the locals knew our language, but when they finally brought someone who could understand some of our language, we explained what we had gone through and wished to be part of their community. They agreed and let us in, and in exchange, we work for them and follow their rules. We agreed without hesitation.

Now we live in a place called District Five. The place sucks, but it's about a million times better than Louerren. Here, my mother can taiolor clothes for the people, not just the military personal, and get paid for it. It wasn't much, but money was money.

My mother's been stoic since my father died, but she knows the language better than I do. I envy her, since for some reason, I'm unable to remember the words of this so called English language.

It made it hard to make friends, and I would live a life of solitude if it weren't for this girl named Blaize. At sixteen years old she's a year older than me, but that was a minor issue. In fact, it wasn't even an issue. I mean, I was different from the District Five kids in looks as well.

I was short with soft, pale skin, fluffy, curly blonde hair, large grey eyes with long lashes, slightly chubby, and there were the large framed black glasses that I needed to wear to be able to see. I looked like a girl, and I could pass as one if I put the effort into it.

And though I don't understand almost everything she says, there's something that never changes. Respect. Because even though we don't understand each other, people need to treat other people with respect. I treat Blaize with respect, because it's polite. I do with other guys as well, but if you're a girl, a child, or elderly, you need to be even more respectful to them.

As my mom was putting me and my five year old sister, Cerise, to sleep, I asked her something that was on my mind.

"Maman, pourquoi est everyong cherche tellement peur?" (Mom, why is everyone looking so scared?)

"Je ne sais pas." (I don't know.) She answered. "Je essayé de leur demander , mais quand je l'ai fait , ils ont juste secoué la tête et soupira." (I tried to ask them, but when I did, they just shook their heads and sighed.)

"Vous ne pouvez pas être si mauvais alors." (Can't be that bad then.) I assured her. If people were scared here, it didn't mean much. Back home, if someone was scared, that meant something bad was happening, or something bad was going to happen. If they shook their heads and sighed, then it meant that they weren't too scared to talk about it. So nothing was was going to happen. Or had been happening.

"Peut-être parce que quelqu'un vient ici." (Maybe it's because someone's coming here.)

Yeah. Maybe someone important was coming over and they were nervous about that. After all, there were the cameras and stuff that had been set up in the district square and stuff. It was probably a thing that happened often, so they probably didn't expect us to be out of the loop for that.

"Peut être." (Maybe.) My mother replied. "Peut-être qu'il n'y a rien." (Maybe it's nothing.)

"Nous ne savons pas encore beaucoup sur ce lieu." (We still don't know a lot about this place.) I told my mom. "Mais nous allons apprendre." (But we'll learn.)

Soon, my mother had finished putting us to bed. "Bonsoir , maman , je vous aime. Bonsoir, Cerise , je vous aime trop" (Goodnight, Mama, I love you. Goodnight, Cerise, I love you too.)

Whatever the people were nervous about, they could get through it.

We were grateful for the Capitol taking us in. And though they lived in riches and the districts lived in less comfort, I told myself that they must not know just how bad the districts were. But that was probably because they lived in their own sector and didn't visit the districts. After all, how far away was the Capitol from District Five?

Maybe a Capitol official was coming over to talk about the rebels that my mother warned me about. Those people that commit violence against the Capitol for whatever reason they think about. Panem isn't that bad. If they had lived where I lived they would think that Panem was an ideal place to live, even if Panem had it's problems. And if they were like the rebels were anything like the resistance back home, the reason that my family finally decided to flee, then the conflict that they would make was something to be fearful of.

But nothing bad like that was going to happen.

 **A/N: Whoo, calm down there Alaria.**

 **I don't know how to feel about writing her.**

 **So I took a look at my story stats. A story with fifteen chapters of hard work and planning vs a twenty one chapter story of hard work vs a one short torture fic that I made for the hell of it. Guess which has more views. Also, for another one of my stories, the chapter that's titled torture has the most views except for the first chapter.**

 **Happy Holidays everyone.**


	10. District 8

**Thiago Fredericks**

If there was one thing that made me better than anyone else in this district, it was that I had the money to be better than everyone else. Because unlike everyone else, I could live a life without starvation without working my ass off, only to still be hungry at the end of the day. And then after a day of serving those that can afford to live the high life, they go back to their shitty shakes and sleep on the cold, damp floor. The kids would complain about how their stomachs hurt, and the parents would have to listen to them complaining.

And if that wasn't bad enough, they would have to do something illegal or desperate in order to continue to live their pathetic, pitiful lives. That usually didn't end up too good for them, because when the peacekeepers caught them, they'd be punished severely. And then they'd still be poor, hungry, sick, weak, and in addition to that, hurt.

Life for them wasn't worth living, but they tried to survive anyway, but why bother? What did they want in their worthless lives? More money? Maybe they kept on living in the hope that they'd earn enough to make their lives better, but that was a fools dream. The only thing those people were good for was working in the factories, producing the products that we send to the Capitol.

My father, the owner of the main factory of the district, was hated by the district because he would make them do hard labor for long hours day after day until they become too injured to work or drop dead. Why? Because he could, and those people were willing to work like that.

Apparently there were some people that didn't think that they should work, that just because you were willing to work in our factory that we should treat you better. And that's where those goddamn rebels came in. They made life a nuisance by trying to rally up the working class and make them give up the lives that they had been living before.

Bunch of bastards I say.

And then there were the peacekeepers, who were just as bad. They wanted us to obey these useless laws and hinder us from doing what we wanted, when we wanted. If I wanted to show someone my superiority, they stopped me from doing so. If I wanted to feel good and do some drugs, they'd try to stop me. Hell, if I wanted to do something they'd be watching me, wanting to stop me from having fun.

The peacekeepers should just leave and let nature take its course. The weak will die and serve, while the strong will live and thrive. Just like they are now, but properly. If you weren't strong you were submitting yourself to someone stronger than yourself. And right now, two of them were learning their place in life.

"I'm sorry," One of them cried, holding his hands up weakly. "I'm sorry for-"

"Shut the fuck up." I told him before I once again kicked him in the face. Blood sprayed from his mouth as he collapsed onto the ground a fourth time.

These two faggots needed to learn something about respect. They needed to respect someone that was higher than them. They were at the bottom of society. And I was going to teach them that. "Should obviously learn your place you queer." I snarled at him. "People like you are at the very bottom of the food chain."

Life wasn't taught at some bullshit school that taught you how to add and get along with people. No. Life was a teacher, but some students refused to learn the way the world worked. There were high up people, people that ruled and were on top of things. People like me, who could do anything they wanted and had the right to do so. Or should be able to, because nature and the way of nature's law says we should.

Below us were people that lived their lives, but did nothing with it. They had the means, but they lived their lives day by day, doing nothing, accomplishing nothing, just like the lower class. Going nowhere in life because they couldn't go anywhere. Typical middle class people.

Then there were the scumbag low levels. The ones that ran around like rats, picking up the trash that those higher than them threw out so that they could continue living on their pathetic, pointless lives. Those that populated the streets and begged their superiors for money and work. If we were merciful, we gave them work, only for them to complain later. They should just suck it up and work until they were no longer useful.

And then there were these faggots on their knees.

Women weren't very high on the ladder of life, and neither were those that were tained with colour. Women were made to serve men and reproduce, but even then they weren't very useful. My mom was a great example of that, always doing nothing but smoke. And those of a coloured nature, they weren't people, just evolved apes that could barely qualify as sub-human.

But queers, those fuckers weren't natural. "Time for me to show you just what you deserve."

I then started to kick the faggot, hard. He tried to defend himself by raising his arms up, but my foot broke past his worthless defenses.

After this fag hit me across the mouth, trying to protect his boyfriend, I knew that I had to teach him some manners. I mean, how dare he hit me!

"Stop." His gay friend coughed out weakly. He had gotten his beating, he wasn't going to get up, so I continued to kick my victim. "Stop." He repeated.

Blood continued to pour from his mouth and he was getting his skin ripped off his arm and face when I was suddenly grabbed from behind and jerked away from those queers. Enraged that someone would dare touch me and stop me from teaching a life lesson, I turned to see who was stupid enough to do so.

There I faced five grown-ups in white uniforms. Peacekeepers. Those that were supposed to be of a higher level, but instead, sold their souls to be here in the district to uphold pointless laws instead of letting nature take it's course.

"What do we have here?" One of the peacekeepers said with a cocky smirk. "A law breaker?" They then pulled out their melee weapons, a cylinder that expanded three times its length with a flick of the wrist. "Looks like someone needs to be taught a lesson in the name of law and order."

I growled at them. How dare they threaten me. Don't they know who they're talking to?

Small, thin, with short, curly blonde hair and fair skin, I had the facial features of someone that was high up in the district. They should of recognized me.

"Do you know who I am?" I asked them as the slowly paced towards me. "Do you know who my father-"

I felt sharp pain appear in my left ribs before I felt a heavy boot hit me in the chest. Next thing I knew, I was on the ground and in pain. Tightness and fire raged within my ribs as I clutched them with my hands.

"Zavier Fredericks' eighteen year old son?" One of the peacekeeping assholes asked.

"Yeah," I told them, getting to my feet. "That's right. You better get out of here and mind your own fucking business before I tell him what you've done to me."

The peacekeepers looked at each other and laughed. What was so fucking funny?

"Daddy's money ain't going to save you this time you little brat." One of them said before I felt their hard metal objects hit me from all around. I couldn't defend against all of them, and soon found myself on the ground again, feeling as if my bones were going to snap at any moment. "And if I'm being truthfully honest, I've been wanting to do this for a long time."

They continued to hit me with their weapons. My whole body was coursing with agony. I hated them. Them and the authority they thought they had. I was strong, and they were weak. I was rightfully higher than they were, and they were beating me. Laughing and mocking me, saying how I was helpless now without my father's support and money. Now that I was alone and there was nothing I could do about it with nobody else around.

I would cry, but I couldn't do that in front of those faggots and the bastard peacekeepers. No, I couldn't do that. Ever. Only females and faggots cried, and I was neither.

After what seemed like forever, a new voice occurred.

"We'll take it from here."

Though I hurt all over, I looked up, so see figures covered head to toe in black. I didn't know who they were, but the peacekeepers in white seemed to respect them, so they were probably some more law and order cunts.

"All yours." A white clothed peacekeeper said before one of the black clothed figures lazily pointed a handheld gun and me and fired.

 **Astrid Luffet**

He wanted me, badly. I saw it the moment I looked into those eyes of his. He didn't seem like anybody special, so I continued to scout the area for potential partners. Someone that might look like someone that I'd want.

At first, he didn't make a move, but then eventually, he made his way towards me and started to chat with me, and at first I wasn't interested, but then he started to talk about things that I thought were interesting. That's when I really started to listen, and he started to become interesting.

Pretty soon, I wasn't interested in any of the other people in that illegal hangout. Why? Because he kept on saying the things that I wanted to hear. He complimented my pink dress and the shoes that I managed to keep clean, even in this part of District Eight. Complimenting my looks, how I was just the sweetest thing, and how I wasn't like the other girls in the district. Saying that he was with the rebels and were fighting for our freedom for a better life.

Everything about him was just perfect. He was perfect. Perfect for me. We were meant to get together. He didn't even seem to care that, at twenty years old, he was five years older than me.

With flawless porcelain skin, dark brown hair that was slightly longer than shoulder length, and facial features that looked like they were crafted by the finest artists, it wasn't hard to see how I could attract people to me. And then there was my height, I was short, probably around four and a half feet give or take. And thin, can't forget that.

But if there was anything that got people to notice me, it was my eyes. Doe eyed that were the shade of perfect sky blue. Many had told me that I was the most striking little girl that they had ever seen. And even though I looked more like I was twelve or maybe even younger, I wasn't going to correct them, because you can't correct something that was true.

It helped that I had the money to look this good, being in the best possible position in the district. My mom and dad were the best parents I could ask for. They took great care of me, and if I asked them for something, they'd give it to me. I wouldn't want to change anything about my life.

As he grew more and more confident that I wanted him, he kept on getting more and more bold. Me charming him helped as well, but it wasn't that hard, it was easy to know what he wanted to hear, and it made it easy for me to get closer to him.

And soon, because of those drinks that smelt of gasoline, he wasn't thinking all that clearly, but clearly enough that he was still in control of himself. This made my job easier, as I suggested we get out of here and have some fun, just the two of us. He readily agreed, and we made our way across the streets of the district.

He was humming happily to himself, holding my hand gently as I guided him to the location I had suggested. He was looking around and holding me close, like he was protecting me from the bad people of the district. I told him how kind he was, and that brought a smile to his face.

We arrived at the spot I had suggested, a run down house that wasn't much to look at, but I had told him that it would offer us tons of privacy, because I knew for a fact that the home was abandoned. It was going to be reconstructed into something else, but for now, the district didn't know what to transform it into. So for the moment, nobody even bothered to step foot into it.

I lead him down to the basement, so that nobody could hear us while we were doing our business. He readily agreed.

He asked if I knew what I wanted from a man, and I told him that it wasn't my first time. He was surprised by that, but that seemed to only make him want me more. I told him that I was into bondage, and that I liked being the dominant one. He said that he wasn't used to that, but for me, he'd give anything a try. Heh, a simple bat of the eyes and I could get people to agree with me. That's just how great I was.

He let me tie him up to a table with rope that was neither too thick nor too thin. His hand and feet firmly attached to the table legs.

I got on top of him, laying just above his belt before I slowly removed his shirt and rubbed my hands over his chest. I caused him to moan in pleasure. I then unbuckled his belt and slid his pants down before I got back on his gut.

"How do you feel?" I asked him seductively.

"Fucking amazing." He sighed with lust. "I can't wait to experience what you do to me next."

"Well, I was going to make you wait a little bit longer, but I guess we can skip to the good parts now."

His eyes were full of lust and his mouth curled into a smile before I sank my nails into his sides, just below the ribs, causing him to howl in pain. Loving the sound of his screams, I twisted my nails within his flesh, feeling the warm blood flow down the tips of my fingers.

"What the fuck!" He shouted in confusion more than anything. "What in the actual fu-" I ripped my nails out of his sides before he screamed again. I brought my hands to my face and licked the sweet and metallic blood running down my fingers. Oh how I loved that taste. "You..." He said, his voice shaking slightly. "You little bitch! Why! Why?"

"Why?" I giggled. "Didn't I tell you earlier that we were going to have some fun?"

"You... You brought me here so that you could AHHHHH!" He yelled as I raked my nails down his chest, creating red rivers that quickly overflowed and ran down down, creating new rivers.

"Aren't you having fun?" I asked with the most innocent voice. "You said you wanted to have fun, and I told you that we were going to have fun together."

"Please." He pleaded. "Please let me go."

"Now why would I do that?" I asked him, pulling out the small knife that I kept hidden on my thigh. "So that you can go blabbing to your little rebel friends?" I giggled at that. "I'm not letting you go anywhere you rebel scum." I stabbed him in the lower ear, giving him a nice, big ear piercing before I pulled out the blade, causing blood to pour out of his newly split ear. "You and your friends have been creating a lot of trouble for my daddy. You know, the head peacekeeper."

It was probably at that moment that he saw that I wasn't going to willingly let him go, so he started to struggle, but it was useless, the knots that I tied were strong enough to hold someone stronger than him. He wasn't my first, and he wasn't going to be my last. "Aww," I said to him like he was a cute, small animal. Like the ones that I would crush under the heel of my boot. "Don't struggle too much baby. You'll just die tired."

"Why do you want to kill me?" He asked, his voice shaking furiously.

I could say to him that, in addition to making my dad's life harder than it already was , that he was opposing the Capitol and wanted to take away my way of life. That they damage the stores I like and get people to stop doing their jobs, making the Capitol get less stuff. I could also say that they were trying to take away the Hunger Games, a source of entertainment.

All of those were valid reasons, but I told him the main reason I was doing this.

I carefully slide the bloody knife across his face, not cutting his face open, but enough that he was feeling something. It scared him, and I liked it. I continued to slide the knife across his face, spreading his own blood on him before I reached his ear, leaned down towards it, and whispered.

"Because I can."

 **A/N: I wanted to put in a thing about open wounds and hot candle wax, but couldn't find a spot to put it in.**

 **Anyway, hi everyone and welcome to the new year. How were your new years? Mine was mixed. I guess slightly more on the positive note since I found out that a couple of my friends are okay after all.**

 **Thiago, I hated writing his part. Astrid, loved writing her part.**

 **When the games finally do come, the fights will be longer, more detailed, and more gritty. Same with the murders.**

 **Only three more reapings to go. District Seven is up next.**

 **I'm not going to update for a bit (again...) because I'm going to be doing a project for the university close to me.**


	11. District 7

**Mina Lokai**

Whether I was at work or at home, thing always seemed to remain the same. Not that I minded it in the least, I was used to it, and I liked that pattern of repetition. It was predictable, it was smooth going, and if anything, nothing bad normally happened.

Packing a late dinner for my father and older brother, it was just like my work, but a lot lighter, and darker. Because instead of packing heavy bundles of wood, something that people always seemed impressed by because of my small, five foot four frame, I was packing a light meal inside a backpack. And instead of it being the day time, it was dark out.

It was cold, it was dark, but at least it wasn't raining.

Still, I didn't like going outside at night, it reminded me of what happened to my friend, Leandro, before he died.

We might not of been in what people would call a typical friendship, since things were one sided for my friend. He would make the decisions, and I would just follow along with him. I didn't mind though, it was fun being with him and we both cared for each other. It wasn't easy for me to make friends, so he was something special in my mind. I had many acquaintances, but could never really make friends. Still, I was fine with that.

But the darkness, traveling through that by my lonesome self, that was something that worried me. It reminded me of when Leandro started to get a hatred for the Capitol, started to talk against them and voiced his negative opinions on the Hunger Games. It wasn't anything new in the district, and the peacekeepers knew how to punish someone who openly voiced a negative opinion on both the Capitol and the Hunger Games.

It didn't stop him though, because then he started to speak about the rebels and how he supported them. It came to a stop when the peacekeepers stopped being so sympathetic to him. And say what you want about the peacekeepers, they were harsh and brutal when they needed to be, but otherwise, they were pretty okay people. When they whipped my friend at the chest rather then the back, that's when he stopped being openly rebellious.

But it didn't stop him from being rebellious.

He then decided that, because he didn't know any rebels, and that he could find any, he was going to have them notice him. He told me that night that he was going to destroy the equipment in a lumber factory, and slow the flow of resources to the Capitol. I told him that it wasn't a very good idea, but he wouldn't listen.

It seemed that he was so fixated on the idea, that he wouldn't listen to reason. I had a way with words, as the merchants would give me discounts and I was even sometime able to get people out of trouble with the peacekeepers, or at the very least, able to get them a less severe punishment. My looks helped with those as well. Hazel blue eyes with green flecks on the outer edges, dark, chestnut brown hair in a ponytail mid-back length, and tanned skin. And at fourteen, I didn't look very much like other fourteen year olds, or older women in general thanks to my face and body not being rough around the edges. But that night, my words failed, and my friend took off.

The next day, when I arrived at work with my co-workers, there in the middle of the work sight, was Leandro. Surrounded by peacekeepers, he was hardly recognizable. His face had changed, it was bloody, it was swollen all over, and thick bruises cascaded down his his entire body. I believe both his legs were broken as they were on angles that were normally impossible.

The peacekeeper in charge told us that he was guilty for conspiracy to sabotage a factory, aiding the rebels in their cause, and trying to disrupt the Capitol supply chain.

I looked my friend in the eyes, and he looked at me before his brains sprayed out of his skull. I screamed and ran away before his body could hit the ground. I spent the rest of the day crying and puking.

For some people, that would probably be the point where they suddenly hate the Capitol more than they already do, despise the Hunger Games some more, and ally with the rebels. Not me though. I was sad at the loss, but my opinions stayed the same.

I hated the games, but I knew why they were there. It made you appreciate life and being alive, because you weren't picked and sent to die.

I thought it was unfair that the Capitol had a better lifestyle than us and what they do to us, but I knew that there was nothing I could do about it, so I accepted the games and the Capitol as my life.

And the rebels? I dislike them. If they hadn't influenced my friend into his rebellious behavior, then he'd still be alive today. And how many people will follow the rebels, just like Leandro did? How many more people will die for the rebels?

The rebels wanted to fight the Capitol. Didn't they see how much it hurt the districts the last times that happened? How many deaths occurred?

Peace and love. Why can't the fighting just stop?

I sighed, knowing that there was nothing I could do about anything. Just live my life. Wake up, go to school, go to work, sleep, repeat. I was okay with that.

Zipping up the back, I placed the straps over my shoulders before opening the door, only to find a gun pointed directly at my chest. It was held by a figure in black, his reflective goggles showing my scared eyes going wide. I didn't make a sound as I heard a soft PHOW occur. I then felt tired. Really tired.

My vision got fuzzy before I fell backwards. I didn't hit the floor as the figure in caught me. He then placed me over his shoulders, it wasn't gentle, but I knew he was trying to be. That's when I faded off to the darkness.

 **Asher Dasos**

By day, I was just someone that faded into the shadows of District Seven. A guy that didn't mind minding his own business and going about his day. A simple lumberjack by trade coming from a middle class family.

We had enough food to not be hungry all the time, but that was a fragile line, because we could fall into poverty at any moment, so that meant I had to work to keep me and my family from falling into that hole.

With my best friend Liya, someone that could keep me company, it wasn't so bad. It helped that she had the same sense of humor as me.

With a head of brown curly hair, eyes of melted chocolate, and a sharp nose, those features would of made me bend in. If not for my near six foot tall body not being muscular, even at seventeen years old, and slightly pointed ears that made me look a little like a mystical creature. My fair skin also didn't help, but somehow, I was still able to remain in the shadows. People didn't bother me too much, and I liked it that way.

It helped me hear things that I wasn't supposed to hear, or things that might seem minor to some, but were major to others. Information and secrets that I could sometimes come across paid well with the rebels, but that was only if I had something they wanted.

And speaking of that, I only went to the rebels when they wanted something, because while I respect their cause, they are overly dramatic about it at times. And overthrowing the Capitol. They do that, and then what?

The Hunger Games was something that I hated, but something that I learned to accept. Kids becoming killers or becoming killed, just another part of life that came once a year, like certain days.

And the Capitol, I didn't like them, but I didn't hate them either, though I do feel that they don't deserve to rule Panem.

So all in all, I was just someone that did whatever they could to just live life as well as they could. I only supported the rebels because they paid me some extra cash when I wasn't lumber jacking. And they paid me well because I could use electronics. Computers to be precise.

It wasn't a skill that people in District Seven were savvy in, but because my grandfather, who was originally from District Three, came to monitor a factory in this district, and he taught me everything he knew. Why? I guess because I wanted to know what he was doing and how I could do it.

I wasn't as good as someone from District Three might of been, but I was better than everyone else in District Seven, because nobody else here could do it.

And now, I was doing just that, trying to hack into some of the low level Capitol information sights scattered around District Seven. The rebels wanted to know about the next shipment scheduled or something so they could possible rob the train and give the supplies to the district rather than the Capitol. They were going to pay me big, some of the supplies they were robbing, so I said sure.

But it was harder than I thought.

"I don't think it's in the lower levels," I told them as my fingers typed the keyboard. "I might have to go into the medium security sectors and find a back door, but to do that I'll need time to crack the coding formats and-"

"Just," The man said raising his hands in the air. "Just do your work." He obviously didn't understand what I was talking about, so I just kept on working. After a moment of nothing but me typing, he asked me a question. "How high can you hack anyway?"

"I can hack low and medium level security," I answered. "High levels are highly unlikely, but possible. But don't think that I can hack into the peacekeepers base, I can't do that. And if you want me to hack into anything outside of the district, don't even think about it, I can only do what's inside the district."

"Pretty smart for a seventeen year old."

"Try, someone from District Seven." I laughed. He laughed as well.

"So how long will this take?" He asked.

"A couple hours at least," I told him. "Systems don't hack themselves."

"And you won't either." He said, his voice suddenly threatening. I found it funny, so I turned around and saw him pointing a gun right at my chest. What in the world?

I tried to show that I wasn't afraid, and gave out a little laugh that was laced with fear. Calm down, just calm down man.

"Hey man," I said in a joking manner. "Are you going to kill me because I'm doing my job?"

"Do you know who I am?" The man asked.

I didn't know the man, all I knew what that he said he worked for the rebels and brought me to a safe house. I didn't recognize him from anywhere in the district. If I said yes, he'd kill me, and if I said no, he'd probably kill me, so I decided to go with the option that would less likely get me killed.

"No." I squeaked. The man smiled. I didn't like that smile.

"That's good." And just like that, I started to feel tired.

 **A/N: Less than 2,000 words again? And I don't know how to feel about this chapter.**

 **So between me writing this, I want to read an epic fanfic that's about 1.8 million words long. Wish me luck that my procrastination doesn't interfere too much.**

 **District One is up next followed by District Two.**

 **On a side note, who thinks that it'd be a good idea if I gather pictures of the tributes?**


	12. District 1

**Cash Deliora**

"Where do you think your going?" My older sister, Mina, asked me with her hands crossed over her chest and an all powerful smirk on her face.

With half my body out of my bedroom window, I had came that close to exiting the house undetected. I thought I had planned everything perfectly. I had waiting until everyone was asleep, no lights were on, I didn't make a sound as I snuck to the window and silently opened it, and I didn't even say anything as I got myself out the window. Or so I thought. I don't know what went wrong, but now here I was, facing my sister who had a flashlight trained on me, just seconds from escape.

With Mina, just two years older than me at age sixteen, she was the person that, when we were out of the training center, took me training on her own time. I didn't like it, but she dragged me along anyway. And with that being said, of course he was stronger and more skilled than me. She could easily beat me in a fight, so I had to think of another way out of this mess.

I could jump out this window and make a break for it, but then there was mom and dad and our other older sister, Aliyah, to think about. If Mina told them, then bad things could happen.

So primary plan, try to convince her to let me go. And if that fails, make a run for it.

Now, to play if cool.

"Where do you think I'm going?" I asked smoothly.

"Hmmm," she said with mock thinking. "Sneaking out late at night, don't want any attention from anyone, it can't be anything good."

"Yeah," I fake sighed. "Nothing good. I'm going out to do and deal drugs, drink booze, and get myself some whores. You caught me. Can I go now?" All lies of course. Sure I was going out when we weren't supposed to, I mean, there was a law for that in District One. I don't know about the other districts, but they wanted to groom us into little perfections or something. Something that I wasn't.

Others would say that I'm good looking, but I was different from the District One perfection image. With slightly stylized brown hair that was long enough to reach my eyebrows, chocolate brown eyes, and ears so small they were only half the size of normal ones, I was someone that was different. So from that alone, and because I felt like it, I wasn't going to let a little law like that change who I was.

"Let me think." My sister said with a false look of deep thinking on her face. Silence engulfed the room for a few seconds before she finally replied. "Yeah fine whatever."

"Great." I said plainly to her. "Just so you know, mom and dad will kick your ass if they knew that I went out and you knew and didn't stop me, so don't tell anyone." If she was going to get me in trouble, I was going to bring her down with me.

"Maybe I'll tell the rebels instead. I mean, they're always looking for people that defy the peacekeepers and the laws set by the Capitol."

The Capitol. Even though I was from District One, the district of luxury, and the district that the Capitol absolutely adored and treated the best, I had no love for the Capitol. I mean really, what do they find so great about watching twenty three kids killing each other year after year? And with all the time and money they spend on the Hunger Games, do they have nothing better to do than waiting for the next game?

I didn't care for the games, just like the rest of my family, just training for protection, you know, just in case something does happen.

Mina for example, trains vigorously because she's worried that she might get reaped and nobody volunteers for her. Yeah, like that would ever happen. I mean, we don't know what this year's quarter quell is, but what are the odds, that even if the quell this year is no volunteers, what are the chances that any of us are going to get picked out of all the people in the district?

Maybe Mina and I won't have to worry about getting picked and nobody volunteers for us, because the rebels are trying to end the Capitol and the Hunger Games. Those people might be digging their own graves by trying to stop the Capitol, but I hope they do make it far enough to succeed in their goal.

Looking at my sister, I almost wanted to get back into my room and get up in her face, but I didn't. Instead, I just said the words I wanted to say.

"I may think that the rebels are smart people, but I'm not going to join them, because I like living, thank you very much."

"Yeah. I know. Now go." My sister said with a shooing motion of her hand. "Go out and have fun with whatever you're planning on doing."

"Thank you." I sighed as I turned away from her and started to finish my climb out the window. Finally, I can go now, I think my right leg was falling asleep. At least she doesn't know what I'm really doing. She'd have a field day with me if she knew.

"Tell Zoey I said hi." She told me before I froze on the spot. How did she...

"How did you know?" I asked, turning around to face her once again, surprised that she knew.

"Everyone in this home knows you sneak out once a month to see Zoey out at night." She said with an all knowing smile. "What do you two do? Go to a back ally and let your primal lust take over and have a fuck fest of epic-"

"That's disgusting," I told her with a shudder. "Back allies are cold and unsanitary."

"So are human mouths but you-" My sister started, but I interrupted.

"And no we don't do any of that," I told her seriously. "Thank you very much. And everyone in this house doesn't know."

"You're right. Mom the worrier doesn't, but everyone else does."

"No they don't." I said.

A knock came from outside my door. If there was one thing my sister did right, it was close my door so that nobody else could see me escaping. "Yes?" I answered.

"Cash," My father's voice sounded from outside the door. "Are you going out?"

"No." I quickly answered.

"Then can you not take the leaves out of the gutter before you don't meet Zoey, your mother told you to do that yesterday and you never did it."

My sister smiled. I face palmed. Seriously, how did everyone know?

 **Zoey Montague**

He was late. And I was worried.

We weren't supposed to be out this late, but it was something that my best friend and I had done for years. Every time we had done this we didn't get caught, but what if he had gotten caught by the peacekeepers. What would happen then?

Maybe someone saw him and they ratted him out to the peacekeepers or something. After all, nobody was supposed to be out this late at night. I could blend in pretty well with the night, having a dark, glowly tan colour of skin with wavy hair a mixture between dark brown and black, dash of freckles across the nose, and a slender body that hadn't yet developed curves on this fourteen year old body. Because of those features, I was dubbed 'the shadow in a world of angels'. It helped me be one with the darkness, but I could of still been seen.

Cash was harder to see than someone with blonde hair and green eyes, but his skin was still fair, and could be seen easier than myself. And because of the discrimination the district gives Cash and I, mostly me, I can easily see them turning us in the second they see us breaking the rules.

Just because we're different, people think that they can treat us less than someone that was blonde haired and green eyed. It was unfair. It's not my fault that my dad, a peacekeeper, fell in love with someone from District Eleven, and had me. How he managed to get the both of us to District One I have no idea. I asked, but he never told.

It was just as unfair that Cash was born the way he was. His parents and sisters had blonde hair and green eye, but for some reason, Cash came out with dark hair and dark eyes. Cash might not seem to care too much about what people say about him, and my parents don't seem to mind much about what people say about me, but I sure as hell do care what they say.

Sure it's mostly the kids that say things about me, as the adults are pretty cool about it, but the things they say, they get to me. Sure I might do something about it, but it'll never stop. Some might not care about my colours, but there will always be more that do.

Maybe in the future I will get them to stop making fun of me when I show them that I can do something that some will never be able to do. Win the Hunger Games. In four years, I'll be eighteen, and that's when I'll volunteer. I'll volunteer and win, and then they'll finally see that I'm not just a shadow hiding among them.

It kind of makes them like the Capitol. Naive little siblings that need to be pleased.

The rebels on the other hand, they're like those spoiled little kids that get angry at something that they don't like. I mean, I don't like some of the things that the Capitol does, but that doesn't mean that I'm going to go around bombing places and stuff like that.

Maybe that's why Cash hasn't arrived. Because of rebel activity, the Capitol increased the pressure in District One, sending more peacekeepers in to try and retain order. Hopefully he's sneaking instead of getting interrogated.

Hopefully if he was being interrogated, my dad could get him out. I don't know if he could, but he could try.

I sighed as I thought of District One, described as the best district to live in out of the twelve. I didn't think so. Maybe if I had a sister that was blonde or had more so called normal features, then it might of been. Sure I didn't have to end up like those from the non-career district, but at least they knew that they belonged there and that was their way of life.

If my mom had meet someone else, someone else from District Eleven, and I had grown up in District Eleven, I'm pretty sure I'd of liked it better there than I would living here now. I would of never meet my best friend though, and that put a sadness in me that I didn't want to experience right now.

At least I had that one person. That one person that I could be with.

A soft knocking sound occurred on the wall, and when I looked towards the source, I saw my one and only friend standing there, waving towards me. I felt so glad that the peacekeepers hadn't gotten him, and that he was right there in front of me.

I smiled as he walked towards me. When he was close enough, he spoke.

"Hey Zoey, sorry I'm late."

"Where were you anyway?" I asked. "I was worried."

"I got caught." He sighed. That was when fear took over me again. What did they do to him? And why was he here now? Was he followed?

"What happened?" I asked, worried for him. "They didn't hurt you did they? You don't look hurt, but-"

"Why would they hurt me?" He asked, holding his hands in the air. "My dad and sister wouldn't hurt me." He paused as I took that information in. "Well, my sister yes, but not because of this."

I was happy that he hadn't gotten caught by the peacekeepers, but that joy was quickly replaced with confusion.

"Wait... Your family knows about this?"

"Not my mom apparently." Cash answered. "And apparently they don't think that we just want to get out of their hands for a bit and live life a little. You know, sneak out and have fun. Instead, my sister thinks that we engage in some highly fantastical love making with each other using the methods we learned in that one growing up class."

"Too much information." I told him. "So why did you take so long? Did your dad and sister interrogate you or something?"

"My dad wanted me to clean the gutters before I left." He sighed. "He watched me the entire time before I left home so that he could see that I actually did it. But after that he left me alone."

Strange... "So what do..." Cash yawned. And he yawned hard, which I found strange. Wasn't he not tired just a minute ago. "Do you... Want... To..." And just like that, he collapsed on the ground. My eyes followed his body, and saw that there was a dart with a green feather attached to it in his back.

Fearful, I looked up, and saw a figure dressed in all black with reflective eye wear and a mask that covered his head and face. He almost perfectly blended into the darkness. And worse, he had a gun pointed right at me. I opened my mouth, but no sound was unable to come out.

Maybe it was because I was scared. Maybe it was because I was running at him full speed because of what he had done to Cash. Maybe it was because of I was getting tired.

I made my way towards him, but didn't even reach him before I collapsed on the ground and closed my eyes. I was too tired to go on.

 **A/N: Hey guys, one more reaping chapter and a chapter after that, and it's game time. Yay! You know what guys, I think this deserves a meaningless rant.**

 **Brown things. When describing someone with brown features, I always see that they use chocolate to describe the brown. Can't you guys use something else? Dirt, dark egg shell, leather, oak, walnut, cooked meat, I don't know, something.**

 **Sorry that I didn't reply to your reviews, again... I meant to, and then I got writing, and soon, all I started doing was writing this chapter.**


	13. District 2

**Arista Osbourne**

Just one more. I just needed to throw one more axe at one more target, and then I was finished. But doing that was harder than I thought. I didn't think I was that tired, but with everything waving in and out, back and forth, left and right, it wasn't easy to accurately gauge the target. And with my heavily breathing and the throwing axe feeling heavy in my arm didn't help any either.

I tried to focus on the center of the red circles, but it was fuzzy and moving about.

I then thought about the arena. If I missed I'd have to rely on hand to hand combat, and right now, I don't think I had the energy to do that. But if I didn't throw it, I'd be dead.

Not wasting anymore time, I threw the axe at the target board, and I watched the weapon sail past the piece of wood, and embedded itself into the wall to it's left.

Exhausted and defeated, I fell to my knees and was about to let out a groan, but instead, I started to cough thanks to my lungs tightening from within. Saliva was building up inside my mouth and I couldn't swallow it. I attempted to spit it out, but I miserably failed, and it looked like liquid ropes were crawling out of my mouth. Embarrassing, the whole thing.

If I was in the arena I'd be dead right now. Someone would be towering over my pathetic form and beating my skull into paste with either their weapon or their boot.

Missing with the axe, getting too tired to defend myself, that wasn't acceptable. If I was going to do any of that, it was after all threats were eliminated. If there was one target untouched, that meant that there would of been one person still alive trying to kill me if it were real.

Damn. Just, damn.

Wiping my mouth with my training shirt sleeve, I got to my feet and went over to the bottle of water that was calling my name.

Twisting the cap off and taking deep gulps of the clear liquid, I thought of the quarter quell. What was it going to be and what could I learn from it. If there was something that could be taken away from watching the Hunger Games, it was that I could see what might work and what might not. Sure every situation is different, but there was always something that I could learn.

I'd learn stuff from previous games since my mom was a Hunger Games history teacher at the academy, but it never hurt to study independently.

And then there were my friends. Maximus, at sixteen years old, was a year older than me, so of course he'd know more than me. Whatever he did during training, I observed. It was so that I could know what worked for him and if I could use any of that for myself.

Maximus was a hard worker, not like Livia. Same age as me, she didn't want to volunteer into the arena, like Maximus or I. Instead, she wanted to become a peacekeeper, but I didn't think she had the talent to do it. Why? Because at the moment, she's taking it easy, while the rest of us drive for something.

Oh well, she says that she'll become serious later on in her life and is just enjoying what she has now. I hope that's true and that she'll become good enough to be accepted into the peacekeeper program when she's older.

If she were older, she could be fighting the rebels at the moment. Those rebels were idiots for trying to fight the Capitol. The Capitol had more power than they'll ever have, and that's why they failed to take them down, twice. The rebels, why couldn't they just be like us and respect the Capitol.

Catching my breath, I allow my breathing to slow as I look at the equipment I have laying around the room. All sorts of weapons, obstacles, targets, and strengthening tools, everything that someone would need in order to become better so that they could face whatever they need to in the arena.

Unless they fail, like I had just done.

Better. I needed to be better if I were to accomplish my dream and make my parents proud.

Finishing up my bottle of water, I tossed the now empty bottle into the trash can as I wiped my hand across my forehead and flicked the sweat from said hand.

Too tired for a shower, I decided to just head straight to my room.

Getting out of the training room, I navigated my way through my home, a modest and nice house that wasn't too over the top. My family could afford it since we were pretty wealthy, and I had no arguments with that, it allowed me to get all the things I needed out of the academy. My dad is the manager for a weapons manufacturing plant, working directly for the peacekeepers, and that's how we were able to get the money we got.

My vision was still a little fuzzy and I was still feeling weak, even after my rest, so I had to use the wall a little for some support. Ugh, I need to make sure that I never get this tired in the arena.

"Hi sis," I heard a voice call out. I look towards its source and saw that it was my little sister, Irina. Even though I couldn't see her perfectly, I knew that she looked like a younger me. We had the same shoulder length, light brown hair, almond shaped, honey brown eyes, and pale skin. I was taller than her at a couple inches shorter than five and a half feet and was bulkier than her. And if there was one thing that I envied about her, it was that she didn't have this stupid teenage acne that I had. Thankfully, there were products I could afford to try and combat them. "Why do you look so tired?"

She knew why I was tired. And speaking of that.

"Why are you still up?" I countered. "It's late." It was only ten at night, but still later than she should of been up. She shrugged her shoulders casually.

"Can't sleep." She replied. "My first reaping day is tomorrow and I get to stand with the rest of the kids in the square. You know what that means right?"

"You get to stand with a bunch of other kids instead of adults?" I asked.

"No," She said as she shook her head. "It means that I'm going to be a cool kid now. After all, this is the first step to growing up. Trust me sis, when people start to take me seriously, now that I'm in the reapings, everything will come in place."

"Right," I said with some sarcasm as I continued to lean against the wall, not wanting to fall over in front of my little sister. "Everything will come into place."

"Hey," She replied. "When the academy starts to train me properly, I'll be just like you. I'll train until I'm a victor like you're going to be."

"Great." I told her before moving up the stairs and towards my room. "I'm going to bed. I want to be at training early tomorrow. Goodnight."

I got to my room, and proceeded to collapse on my bed before closing my eyes.

 **Eris Fontani**

I couldn't sleep. But even if I could, I wouldn't want to anyway.

Watching her softly breathing in and out, her bare back raising slightly up and down with each breath, I couldn't help but think. Funny how I was thinking even though I was a good deal drunk. Drunk enough to feel the effects of the alcohol, but enough to still be in tune with my senses.

Just days ago, I received some devastating news, one that would change my life, or end it.

My father was friends with the peacekeepers, not too uncommon in District Two since you at one time either know at least one peacekeeper, or someone that's going to be a peacekeeper. But it helped that my father helped and supported the peacekeepers anyway he could, short of being one himself.

Being a huge Capitol loyalist and supporter of the peacekeepers, he used our home as a peacekeeper safe house and would use this place to help injured peacekeepers recover.

I myself might not of had as much love for the peacekeepers and the Capitol, because honestly, I didn't really care about either of them. They didn't care about me, and I didn't care about them. They were busy with their own shit, and I with mine. It benefited both of us. Not to say that I wouldn't help my father when he wanted my help with helping his peacekeeper buddies, but that didn't mean I was going to jump in every time something happened.

However, as much as I don't care about the peacekeepers and the Capitol, I like the idiotic rebels even less. They started the conflict, and most of the ones that were paying the price was the people in the middle. I mean, if they had just stayed where they belonged, then none of the additional complications would of come into play. Life would be sweet.

But life wasn't going to be sweet. Not for long.

My father had told me that the peacekeepers were going to take me into the Hunger Games. Why? My father had told me that it was because I had almost killed that jackass had gotten too physically close to my girl. He should of backed off, but he didn't.

When I was told that, I had let my anger consume me, and it lead me to kicking and destroying things around the house. I shouted profanity and attacked my mom and dad as well. I will fully admit that it was far from my finest moment, and that I still felt miserable about that. There was still damaged areas within the house, and I had to wonder if my parents would ever fully forgive me. After all, why should they? I may of been forcibly reaped, but that was no excuse to lash out at them like that.

After that episode, after I had calmed down and let my anger drain out of me, I did what I had to do. And tonight, while most would probably still be pissed at getting forcibly reaped, or excited to get into the arena, I just accepted it. I didn't deny it, nor was I eager.

So I did what I thought was the best thing to do. I did my best to make up with my parents, said my stuff to my brother, who no longer lived with us as he had moved out, even though he was only slightly older than myself, and had a drinking session with my even older best friend.

Cadmar, twenty one compared to my eighteen, was more of a brother to me than my real one. He's one of the few that saw me for who I really was other than what I have with Neiva. Cadmar, great guy, funny, rebel supporter who also fights for them. I don't care that he fights for the people that I hate, he's not defined by those he fights for, just like he had told me that I'm not defined by who I date and fuck. He's the only friend I trust, and the only one that hasn't betrayed me. Been with me even before Neiva became the beautiful woman she is now, and made my so called 'friend' count go up because people wanted to get closer to her.

We drank, and drank, and drank some more. Laughing and sharing good memories before I made my friend promise that in my absence, he'd take care of Neiva, and that he wouldn't lose himself to the drinking and the whoring. That he'd never be on the Capitol's side, because we might be the Capitol's lapdogs and have our peacekeepers enforce their laws, but we weren't Capitol. He swore that he'd uphold that deal to the best of his abilities, and that was good enough for me.

And when I got home, there was Neiva. She knew that I was going to be leaving, and she said that before I went, she wasn't to be as close to me as possible. It was then that in the bedroom, we made hot, passionate love. We didn't use any kind of protection, but at that point, at I don't think either of us gave a fuck.

Now here I was, looking at her for what could be the last time. I took in every part of her. From her blonde haired curls and blue eyes and down her lean and fit figure, everything about her. She was a year older than me, and she was perfect. I on the other hand was more like the typical District Two citizen. Dark brown hair, light grey eyes, and fit figure.

I sighed sadly before taking my eyes off her and went over to her dresser, and placed a letter within it, telling her everything. How I felt about her and whatever else I felt like putting in it, which was everything.

Buttoning up the last few buttons on my shirt, I exited her room and went to mine, knowing that it was almost time.

I opened my door and saw that someone was already waiting for me inside. My father. I wasn't expecting him, and to add to that, he had a handheld weapon in his grip.

"I told them that they wouldn't have to storm the house if I got you myself." He told me. "You're not going to cause trouble, are you?"

"No." I answered, already having accepted my situation.

"That's good." He sighed as he waved the gun slightly. "As I said before Eris, I really am sorry that this had to happen."

"Me too." I sighed.

"Come," he said to me with sadness in his tone. "Sit with me, we've got a couple minutes."

I did just that. He wanted to talk to me, I knew he did, and this was most likely going to be the last chance he got, because I wasn't going to try and fool myself and say that I was going to come back home. I wasn't cocky enough to think I was invincible. "Did you get to do what you needed to do?"

I nodded.

"Said goodbye to everyone worth saying goodbye to," I told him. "Made arrangements and the such."

"That's good." My dad said to me. "Now son, what you do in the arena, your mother and I won't think any less of you. I know that we raised you to be polite and that you don't let your emotions get the best of you most of the time, but things happen. Whatever we see on the screen, we'll both remember you for the cheerful, youthful person we know you really are."

"Thanks dad." I said to him, feeling my eyes burning. I was going to hold them in though, I couldn't let him see them.

"And son,"

"Yes?"

My father pointed the gun at my neck. I didn't stop him, there was no point. It was either going to be him shooting me peacefully, or the peacekeepers kicking down the door and fighting me. PHOW.

"I know about you and Neiva."

I may of started to get tired, but at the same time, all kinds of emotions flooded through my mind and body. Neiva and I was the single biggest secret we had, and I had wanted to keep it that way. Because we thought that if he had ever found it, it would devastate him. And now, he knew. I saw my dad's mouth move, but I couldn't hear his words. I think he said that he was okay with it, but I couldn't tell, my head was swimming too much with thoughts and emotions.

I fell off the bed with a loud thud and only had one thought in my mind.

Well...

Fuck.

 **A/N: District Two, my favorite district to write for this reaping. Why? I only needed to stare at a blank screen for one hour before I started to write.**

 **Reapings are done at last!**

 **One chapter until the games!**

 **If you guys feel like answering some questions:**

 **1) Fav district?**

 **2) Fav tribute?**

 **3) Least fav tribute?**

 **4) Who do you think's going to die early?**

 **5) Who do you want do die early?**

 **I also want to ask you guys a question for a chance to win a prize, but I can't think of any questions. Whoever asks me the best question will receive a prize for their tribute of choice in the arena.**


	14. Transportation

**District One Train**

For all it was worth, I didn't enjoy taking these two. The reasons behind it I wouldn't of completely agreed with, but then again, I wasn't the one that was making the rules and I certainly wasn't the one that should of been complaining about things being fair.

If it were up to me, I would of let these kids go free, but I was in the minority. Most of my comrades didn't feel the same way, they felt that those kids could of been working for the rebels. After all, there was a reason that we had created a curfew in District One.

The rebels were too scared to face us directly, so they hid in the shadows and struck when we were vulnerable, or at least weaker. They'd attack lone peacekeepers or small patrols, and they'd do it where it was hard to get backup. They'd attack from behind, in the dark, or when they weren't even there, letting their bombs or traps take care of us. Killing those close to me or crippling them.

Those two were young, but that didn't mean that they weren't working for the rebels. I had taken in kids just as young as those kids, and interrogated them for all they were worth. Some of them might not of been fighting for the rebels, but they had been helping them in ways that hindered our effort to snuff out the resistance that plagued our country.

Message couriers, lookouts, shelter holders, these kids and sometimes their families would aid the resistance, and that was unacceptable.

I took no pride in threatening teenagers, or kids younger than that, but it was a part of my job. Some tried to act tough, mostly the older ones that thought they were some kind of bad asses. The little ones, the younger ones, I tried to be more gentle with, even if others weren't.

The real problem was the adults. Unlike the younger ones, they knew exactly what they were doing, and some even boasted proudly that they'd do what they had done all over again. Some ended up telling us everything after some threatening statements, but most needed something more to make them crack. Physical strength, imprisonment, some bad food, got more to talk. But there were some that refused to revel anything even through all that, so there was beatings. You can do a lot to someone, I should know. Even more gave in to those methods, but there were some that still refused to cooperate. Some gave us useless information. It was a constant struggle to know what to follow and what to not.

And being a peacekeeper in District One was tough. These people more than likely trained to be a career, a victor for the games, and they were rich, which mean resources.

They had supplies, they had people on their payroll, and it was not working in our favor.

"Confirm tributes." A voice from my headset demanded. "Over."

I looked at the boy.

"Cash Deliora." Different from most of the district in terms of looks. Possible rebel supporter. "Fourteen years of age."

I looked at the girl. "Zoey Montague." Also different physically from the district. Possible rebel supporter. "Fourteen years of age. Over."

Seconds passed by before the headset crackled back to life.

"Identities confirmed, bring them to the DL. Over."

"Roger," I said. "Over, out."

I took another look at the tributes and thought of how the Capitol had picked them. I had heard that the Capitol had been paid by many in One to take them away. Rig a reaping that wasn't even there. Why? Because they looked different?

I sighed. I didn't even know these kids, I shouldn't be thinking about them this much.

We stopped some possible rebel supporters, and that was justification enough. We didn't need some personal moral shit to complicate things.

 **District Two Train**

I once meet the girl's father. Romulus Osbourne. He was a sarcastic bastard with plenty of snark, but if there was one thing that he was prideful about, it was his family. Sure he was also prideful about his weapon production plant, but it was second to making his family happy.

I often wondered if that's what I might of been like if I hadn't taken this peacekeeping job. I had no regrets about joining, but I often wondered what my life would of been if I things had turned out differently. Would I of had a family that I would of cared for? Would I have been single all my life?

I turned to the boy, and while I didn't recognize the girl, I recognized him. His father was a big asset to us, along with being a friend that any peacekeeper could turn to if they ever found themselves in trouble. Because even though this district out of eleven others had the least amount of rebels, these fuckers were probably the hardest to find and the most dangerous.

While Theon Fontani was more than happy to help us, his son wasn't. He did help us from time to great time, and there were no reports that he aided the rebels in anyway, but it wasn't like he was enthused about doing it. Whatever, I should be glad that he helps us a little instead of helping the rebels in any way, shape, or form.

Kid's happy and respectful though. Shame that he had to nearly kill that other guy though, I think that's the only reason he was picked out the so many others that could of been picked. I mean, there was the other thing, but it was the mostly attempted murder that got him. His dad was buddy buddy with us, and it's a good thing that he cooperated with us and understood for the most part, otherwise things could of gone so much messier.

And that girl's father, what would he do when he found out that we, the peacekeeper, kidnapped his daughter and sent her into the games? He wasn't the only weapon manufacturer in the district, but what if he got pissed off at us and started giving his weapons to the rebels. Small in numbers, but suddenly better armed. I didn't even want to think about it.

They said they picked the girl because they thought that she had a good chance of getting rid of the rebel scum that were going into the arena. If that were the case, why couldn't they of gotten an eighteen year old from a less important and influential family? I think there's another reason for it, but maybe there's not. Whatever it is, I just hope knows what he's doing.

"Confirm tributes," A voice from HQ commanded through my headset. "Over."

"Eris Fontani, eighteen years of age." I told them. "Arista Osbourne, fifteen years of age. Over."

"Identities confirmed, bring them to the DL. Over."

"Roger. Over, out." I said before taking off the headset and looking back at the two kids.

If my life were different, would I become angry and swear revenge if something were to happen to my family, or would I of been sad, but accepting? Then I realized that I was both.

The peacekeepers were my family, and I was sad and angry that the rebels were killing my family.

 **District Three Train**

Scum of the earth these two brats.

I mean, sure they weren't the worst that we ever encountered, nor did they kill anyone themselves, but given the circumstances, they were just as bad as the rebels that seeked and destroyed.

That girl, we finally caught her. We had been wondering who had been stealing things from us, and we finally caught her. The only reason we didn't do anything to her then and there was because Head Peacekeeper Keystone had ordered us to not detain her. Not only because of her getting picked anyway because she was a huge rebel supporter, but because we might also see where she hid the stuff. Turns out that she kept some food and stuff for herself and her three other little brats.

Those supplies that she stole were valuable to us, and put peacekeepers and other people in the district in danger because the rebels told them sweet nothings. Couldn't stand her.

And worse than her, there was this kid that had been building IEDs for the resistance. Those explosives had killed friends of mine, and here he was, making money off our suffering. He's lucky that I don't build him into a human time bomb and send him into a rebel hideout before detonating him myself. Of course, that was if I knew where a rebel hideout was.

This girl, she claimed to care about family. Tried to prove it by taking care of those girls that were her sisters, often trying to prevent bad things from happening from them. She didn't even tolerate swearing in front of them even though they probably knew the words and said them themselves. Protected them.

But what about the other families? The families that were being corrupted and murdered because of the activities that she did? She was putting others in danger, and she didn't seem to give a damn about the consequences of her actions. Hypocrite.

Well, her choices finally caught up with her.

The boy was taking advantage of the chaos and making a profit off it. I doubt he cared about others either. As if there wasn't enough suffering already, but he was just adding fuel to the fire by building weapons.

Both of them deserved their fate if you ask me. I hope some loyal career kills them.

"Confirm packages," A voice crackled from the headset I wore. "Over." The radio might of been encrypted, but we were in District Three, where technology was their specialty, we had to take precautions with this district, because rebels could be listening in on our signals, even if they couldn't understand all of it.

"Seventeen black coffee and eighteen rice packs." I told the operator on the other side. "Over."

"Packages confirmed, send them to the DL. Over."

"Roger. Over, out."

 **District Four Train**

I did my work, and I did it willingly, but I couldn't help but wonder if these two were the best one to kidnap. I mean, sure, I get it, I get why they were chosen, but I still thought that we should of gotten different kids.

The boy, while not a rebel himself, had a lot of connections to those that were in the resistance. If they got sour about what we did, they could rally up and maybe raise the people up and get them to help them with their cause. And if they got enough support, they could push us back, back us into a corner and finish us off. Drive us out of this district if they didn't outright kill us all.

As a punishment to his friends, he was kidnapped, because for some reason, kidnapping one of his rebel friends wouldn't of had too much of an impact. I think they said that kidnapping him would of shown his rebel friends that their cause was hurting people that weren't involved, or something like that, but the story we'd feed the public was that he was involved in street fights. That was assuming that the resistance was smart enough that they could read the lines and the situation, but sometimes I doubted that they didn't think that clearly and just repeated 'attack the peacekeepers' in their heads.

And that girl was just as big a problem. That family was a large supporter of the resistance, and with her sister's status and wealth as a victor, they were supplying and arming the rebels. They tried to justify their crime because they hated the way that their eldest daughter had turned out, but if those fuckers had thought for a moment, they would of realized that their victor daughter had willingly volunteered for the games, and therefor, it wasn't the Capitol's fault, or even the Hunger Game's fault, but hers.

She volunteered, so she had no excuse. Nobody held a knife to her throat and forced her to volunteer. I remember her saying that she wanted to make her family proud and represent her district. Now she was helping destroy the damn thing.

The boy, he wasn't with the rebels himself, only friend with them, so he gained some sympathy from me. But the girl, she was heavily involved, supported them through and through and seemed damn proud of it. She deserved no sympathy. Not from me, not my brothers and sisters in arms, not even the people of her own district.

The boy was a well liked and funny guy, I had bought fish from him and so had my fellow peacekeepers. There was nothing wrong with him other than sometimes he forgot just how serious he was supposed to be.

The girl was from a wealthy family, and were respected by the community. But there was a difference between being respected and being liked.

The guy, we liked, even though his choice of friend could of been better through. He didn't do anything to us and wasn't persuaded into the rebel cause. He didn't give us a reason to hate him, so in turn, we respected him.

The girl on the other hand, she was respected because of her family. Her father, a soldier of the resistance, and her sister, a victor. Most people respected her sister because of her victor, but others also respected the family because of the rebel activity of her father. But what was that girl other than a loud mouthed, dumb blonde that occasionally gave out optimistic words? Happy go lucky attitude? Isn't that translation for 'I don't give a fuck about what's happening as long as nothing bad happens to me'? People say she's friendly because of her attitude, I say go fuck yourselves. She wasn't so friendly when her rebel allies were around her home. She could of came to us nice and easy, like the boy did, instead, she calls for armed backup. Someone could of gotten killed you stupid bitch!

"Confirm tributes, over." A voice said over the radio.

"Clarity Worthington, sixteen years of age." I replied into the radio set. "Turret Tawell, eighteen years of age. Over."

"Identities confirmed, deliver them to the DL, over."

"Roger. Over, out."

If things didn't go right with these two, it could be catastrophic for us peacekeepers, the innocents of District Four, and maybe all of Panem.

 **District Five Train**

She wasn't the worst, but she also wasn't the best either. But did she deserve what was coming to her? Yes, she absolutely deserved whatever was coming for her. There was no denying it.

This girl was an absolute terror, but it was not because she was the worst criminal we had ever encountered, but because of the influence she was giving some people. Some were no longer seeing the peacekeepers as the protectors we were, and instead, because of that girl's graffiti, they were seeing as as monsters. Propaganda, even crude, homemade stuff could make a difference in a person's mind.

And why was this girl doing all this? Because we had killed her rebel girlfriend. We did what we did because we needed to tell the rebels, who were growing incredibly violent, that they were not safe, that we would find them, that we will deal with them. We left her body out in the street for as long as we did because we wanted to discourage rebels from acting, and prevent new rebels from forming. It worked for a bit, but then it started to backfire in a way. All because of this fucking girl.

So, it's okay if you get other people to kill other people that have ones that love and care for them, but if someone kills someone that you love and care about, it's not okay? We're not the monsters here girl, you are. We want to end the resistance, and we will say we want to kill every rebel we come across, but what you want isn't justice, it isn't even revenge, what you want is a civil war. You want everyone to feel your pain. You want everyone to feel the loss of a loved one, and if we let you continue your path, you will make people feel you pain. Whether they deserve it or not.

You should thank your mom girl, if she didn't think you had a chance to see the light, you'd be either dead or wish you were dead, but at times, if we didn't stop you, I hope that you lived to encounter those who's lives you ruined, so that they could show you exactly how you made them feel.

The boy was a different story.

From what I was told, he was not from Panem. Instead, he was from up north, from the Wilds. Taken in by the mercy of the Capitol, and now he at their mercy. Funny how things worked out for him, but if anything, I feel sorry for him. Nothing says fuck you harder than being sent into the arena by the very people that welcomed you in. But Panem welcomed you and your family in because we needed workers, but what you didn't know was that you couldn't leave. Yeah, we weren't going to let anyone leave Panem just because they wanted to. There were dangerous things out there, and you readily accepting hard work in return for protection proved it.

I had seen you when we had punished people for the crimes they had committed. You were there when we tapped that rebel's mouth shut and hung him upside down with hooks through his ankles. You were scared, just like everyone else in the audience. But unlike them, I could see that you understood better than them. That you had seen things, and you didn't regret coming into Panem. Wherever you were from, it was worse than what we had, so I'd like to think we peacekeepers were doing a good job at keeping order.

Not many people understood you by speech, and they took advantage of your kind nature.

Why were you chosen? I guess enough people started to complain that outsiders were unnatural, so the Capitol wanted someone gone. You were it.

"Confirm tributes," Someone from the radio told me. "Over."

"Alaria Grindetti, eighteen years of age." I told them. "Amaury Vernis, fourteen years of age. Over."

"Identities confirmed, send them over to the DL, over."

"Roger. Over, out."

It's a shame that one of you is going to die. And not a shame that one of you is.

 **District Six Train**

When enough complaints come in, we have to investigate what's been going on. Sure most of the time it was fruitless and the people often left more pissed then they had been before, but it wasn't like we could just spend five minutes searching and magically come up with the answer.

That's the problem with them rich folks, they complain, but at least the district rich folks were reasonable about it, even though they hated us. It was the Capitol folks that were the real pain in the asses when they came to District Six and complained.

Used to their lives being perfect, bitching about minor problems that my friends would of loved to have. So when a group of Capitol officials bitched enough, we, the peacekeepers, were put on a stake out to look for some damn luggage thieves when our resources could of been put to better use. I mean really, with the threat of a civil war, you would think that getting a watch or some useless trinket stolen would be the least of the problems. The Capitol had lots of power though, and many Capitolits were all too willing to abuse that power.

So after a huge wait out, we finally found the source of the problem. It was another band of thieves in the district. An all too common problem, and an annoying one at that.

To please the Capitol, we took in the leader of that band of luggage thieves. It wouldn't stop the thefts, as when one disappears, another one will almost instantly take their place. An ongoing problem if there was one. It was pointless to kidnap that boy when we could of gotten someone that was a bigger threat to the safety of District Six.

The girl however, she was a different story, and one that I had recognized with both sadness and anger. Not all that anger was directed at her however. Even though she stole from us and the people, and sold things to the rebels at the cheapest price you could go, there was a part of me that would never forget what had happened to her.

A few bad people in an organization give the entire group a bad name. As second in command, I had given swift and powerful justice to those that had dared commit those horrific acts. Because if there was one thing in the world that I hated more than anything else, it was what those monsters had one to that kid. If it weren't for our head peacekeeper, they all would of gotten a bullet to the head. After they had tasted the soles of my boots and the sour taste of their own blood first. If any consolation at all, those that had taken part were no longer part of the peacekeepers, but all in all, they got off way too easy. I don't know what happened to them after that, and frankly, I don't give a damn.

Did that girl deserve to be punished? Yes. Did she deserve what she got? Fuck no.

Right now though, I guess both of them deserved what was coming to them. Pissing off the Capitol and selling to the rebels. I may feel sorry for the girl, but my sympathy only goes so far.

"Confirm tributes, over." The radio spoke before I radioed them back.

"Tracker Hornsby, fifteen years of age. Felix Di Mauro, fourteen years of age. Over."

"Identities confirmed, deliver them to the DL. Over."

"Roger. Over, out."

These actions we were doing wouldn't stop the thieves of the district, but hopefully it would cut off a rebel supply line and weaken those bastards.

 **District Seven Train**

We've all made mistakes, I wasn't going to deny that.

Yes, the peacekeepers do make mistakes, the Capitol makes mistakes. But you know what? Everyone makes mistakes, even you. Yet, when regular people make a mistake, that's all it is, a mistake. Because unless it's so big that it can't even be treated as a mistake, that's when shit really gets going. That's how things are supposed to be, and how people see the way things work.

Yet, when we the peacekeepers, or the Capitol make a mistake, holy fuck world, watch out, shit just got real. Oh we looked at you funny? Our bad. Oh, we dragged you to the whipping post and whipped you because you were breaking the law? Our bad. Oh, we kicked down your door and shot you and your friends down because you were part of the resistance and you had previously placed an IED in the middle of our path, killing a group of peacekeepers? Our, fucking, bad.

That mostly what I hear from the people when they say that we, the peacekeepers, are abusing our power. No. You fuckers are the ones that think that upholding the law is an abuse of power. Wasn't it just recently when one of you fucks ran at me with a chainsaw, deliberately trying to saw me in half, only for me to do the logical thing and shot you before you killed me or any of my friends? Oh yeah, that's right, my bad, because as 'witnesses' say, he just lost his footing and 'just happened to stumble towards me'. Yeah yeah, keep trying to justify your resistance cause.

Got enough trouble just being here, don't need to add the pressure of stopping a fucking civil war on my shoulders. What? You think being a peacekeeper is all fun and games? No. We have to look after you ungrateful pricks and what do you do? Charge at me with a running chainsaw! I can't believe that I left my district, left my biological family and childhood friends, left the life I knew, in order to be meet with discrimination and hatred. I knew that you wouldn't like me, but damn people, show some respect!

The boy in front of me had given my non-biological family problems. Giving rebels information that they weren't supposed to know, using that knowledge to murder my brothers, sisters, mothers and fathers. How the hell did he learn to hack again? Oh right, a family member of his was transferred to District Seven. Why did the Capitol allow that?

And this girl. It was only just now that my superiors were starting to think that we might of made a mistake. After all, while this girl was a friend of a known rebel, she was never actually seen doing anything for the resistance. Maybe she was innocent, maybe she wasn't. Who knows? Not us that's for sure.

As I said, we all make mistakes, but our mistakes were magnified beyond all belief.

Well... The Capitol did say that they needed some innocent people mixed into the group, so if she is innocent after all, we can trade in one mistake for another. Or something. Whatever. Whatever we do will be seen as a crime against humanity anyway.

"Confirm tributes, over." The radio crackled.

"Asher Dasos, seventeen years of age." I answered. "Mina Lokai, fourteen years of age. Over."

"Identities confirmed, drop them off at the DL, over."

"Roger. Over, out."

 **District Eight Train**

There were a lot of things that I would of declared unfair. But then again, the world wasn't fair, was it.

The boy that was was laying in front of me, it was unfair on how he could of gotten so far in life the way he was. People would often compare him to us, the peacekeepers, but we were nothing like this guy. Because we used violent methods on people, people assumed that all we were were bullies that liked to hurt people. But in truth, all we are doing is upholding a law that people seem to forget exists.

This brat here was untouchable because his father's the owner of a fabric factory, and he used his wealth in ways that were absolutely despicable. This brat here was about the lowest a human being could sink to, and loved himself for it.

Challenging our authority and laughing when we couldn't do anything to him in fear of retaliation against his father. I mean, his father couldn't outright refuse to send supplies to the Capitol and the peacekeepers, but there were loopholes that he loved to exploit. He could send only the bare minimum, and give us the shitiest products he could find.

We found out the hard way that you mess with that family, and the next thing you know, your uniform has buttons falling out and the soles of your boots are nothing more then compressed cardboard. I still remember my boots disintegrating in the rain.

If there was anyone the deserved the fate that was coming to him, it was him. No doubt about it. I was glad that he was finally getting some kind of justice, even if we weren't the ones doing it to him. I mean, they might like to think it, but nobody is above the law. Nobody.

And while it was painful for me to arrest and detain head peacekeeper Luffet, it was something that needed to be done. As I said, nobody is above the law, and when he found out that his baby girl was being taken away from him and getting sent into the arena, he tried everything to prevent us from taking her. He just couldn't believe the acts that his daughter had done, saying that all she was was a sweet, innocent girl and that we had made a mistake.

He got violent, so we had to detain him. Now stripped of his status as head peacekeeper, he was going back to our home district to await judgement.

It was a shame really, he was a good head peacekeeper.

Money, status, those things didn't make you immune to the law, that had been drilled into our brains during training, and yet, some still thought that they could get away with it if they didn't get caught. I'm not going to say that I was a perfectly clean white cloth myself, since I had done some things, but I wasn't going to let a racist bully and a murderer run wild in the district we were supposed to be protecting. Bad enough that there was a resistance group doing all that.

"Confirm tributes, over." The radio said to me.

"Thiago Fredericks, eighteen years of age." I replied. "Astrid Luffet, fifteen years of age. Over."

"Identities confirmed, drop them off at the DL, over."

"Roger. Over, out."

 **District Nine Train**

There were some that deserved what was going to happen to them.

Take the rebels for example. They cause terror around the district, and kill people. Not just peacekeepers, but people caught in the crossfire as well. When an IED detonates, shrapnel flies in all directions, hitting both targets and innocents alike. And that was the same with their firebombs. When their flames torched peacekeepers and innocents alike, it was our fault for not preventing it from happening. And while we should of been able to prevent it, we didn't, and it fucking sucks when people point the finger at you when it was the goddamn rebels that had done the damage.

What did the last attack do? Kill one peacekeeper and three civilians? Oh I'm sorry, I didn't know that it was our fault for getting your own people to kill each other. Sometimes I think that the rebels are a bunch of hypocrites. For the people they say, but when their actions take place, it's the people that pay.

And as such, I had no love for the resistance. That boy that we kidnapped, he deserved what was coming to him. He was a messenger for the rebels, so while high ranking rebels stayed in their safe houses, he was out there saving their lives, so that they could cause more damage to the district.

And then there were some people that didn't deserve what happened to them. Take the innocent people that shouldn't of been a part of this war. They weren't peacekeepers, nor were they rebels. They had nothing to do with this fight. And yet, they were the ones that suffered the most.

And this girl, she was innocent, we all knew that. She had nothing to do with the rebels. I mean, she had a future ahead of her. What would she of been if she wasn't tossed into the game? Probably some field manager that would fight for worker rights or something like that. Or maybe not even worker rights, but a more effective way to farm or something.

This girl could of gone far, but the boy was going to die either way. I pitty the girl, the guy can die.

Was I going to say that he deserved to have his mother, father, and younger sister killed because the Capitol didn't like his cousin's answer? No, he didn't deserve it. But when you contribute to ruining your own district, I say that's where you cross the line.

Sure, if someone killed my mother and father, I'd want to get revenge on the bastard that did it, but that guy and that guy alone. I wouldn't drag anyone that had nothing to do with it into the situation if I could help it.

Sounds simple, but really, it's not. Humans are complex animals, and in terms of morality, the world isn't black and white, but shades of grey. And on occasion, grey and black, or even black and blacker. I knew that I was doing the right thing, but to that kid, he was doing the right thing as well.

But there's a point when doing the right thing stops being right.

Was it right that the Capitol was trying to stop the rebels? Yes.

Was it right that the Capitol was trying to make this year seem like just another quarter quell? Yes.

Was it right that they kidnapped this innocent girl in order to do so? I don't know. Because if they had kidnapped only rebels, the resistance would of only acted that much tougher and violent. Like, 'you kill my people so I kill yours'.

The rebels say that they're the people, for the people, but do you protect them like we do? I don't think so.

Fuck man, the world was so much simpler a few years ago when I was still a kid in District Two.

"Confirm tributes, over." The radio commanded me.

"Harvest Miller, seventeen years of age." I replied. "Mazie MacDonald, fifteen years of age, over."

"Identities confirmed, take them to the DL, over."

"Roger, over, out."

To put it in my terms however, the boy deserved what he was going to get. After all, joining the rebels because the Capitol killed his family can be seen as an excuse. The girl however, didn't deserve her fate.

 **District Ten Train**

The districts looked at us poorly. And for the most part, we were nothing like what they thought we were. But a few bad apples tend to spoil the batch, and that was unacceptable.

Take for example, , our head peacekeeper. Many of us didn't like him, but didn't question him with the way he dealt with things. After all, we were told that each head peacekeeper had their way of running things, and head peacekeeper McEvoy was no exception.

A tall, sadistic man with an imposing figure, he wasn't someone that you wanted to cross. Still, many of us looked up to him, and I was no different. That is, until we learned of his exploits. Him going over that that whore of his and letting her get away with things that we shouldn't let others get away with, that was something that put a stain in all our hearts and minds. So here we were, making things right again.

When his second in command takes his place, I can only hope that she makes things right again.

Now stripped of his rights and rank, was going back to HQ to face the wrath of and the other peacekeepers and become a star in an educational video for future peacekeepers. His first step to making the peacekeepers in District Ten right was going to be punishment, and finally, death. This kind of corruption wasn't something to take lightly, and neither was this assignment my friends and family were tasked with.

Cleaning the streets of the scum that ran around the district was hard work, and it was something that we needed to see through without the worry of corruption. We needed the people with us, so we kidnapped McEvoy's rebel whore and a murderer faggot. Well, he's not just a murderer since he has broken just about everything that exists.

We would restore our image, get the people back on our side, and stop the resistance from tearing this district apart. If we didn't help the people and restore order, who was? Surely not the rebels.

"Confirm tributes, over." The radio spoke to me.

"Dyami Vale, sixteen years of age," I answered. "Cornelia Withers, seventeen years of age. Over."

"Identities confirmed, deliver them to the DL, over."

"Roger. Over, out."

 **District Eleven Train**

Sometimes, life's just a bitch.

Take these poor souls for example. This boy, only twelve years old, but because he supports the rebels and his mother's a huge rebel supporter, he got chosen. And the girl, she was chosen just because her name came up in a draw. Almost like the real reapings when your name gets drawn. Tough luck, both of you, but especially you girl.

But it wasn't just you that was going to have a hard time, because you think that going into the arena is hard, try being a peacekeeper in District Eleven. People in District Eleven just outright hate you because we keep you on a tight leash, and for good reason. See, if this district were to fall, a lot of the agriculture that's being supplied to the Capitol would grind to a halt.

That's probably why District Eleven is one of the most dangerous, and most important jobs a peacekeeper can be tasked with. Dangerous because there's so many people out for your blood, and important because it's essential for the food that it's produces.

It's almost like being in the arena, and I knew what the arena was like. As a victor, and being born in District Two, I wasn't naive about death and violence. And being here in District Eleven was like being in the arena everyday until you get transferred to another district or get to take leave.

The resistance here is heavy, and it wasn't easy to get every rebel out there, but we continued to fight the good fight, because who knows what will happen if this district falls. Might create a domino effect and cause every other district to fall into rebel control.

So for people like that boy, even though he was only twelve years old, we had to tell the district that we will find you, and we will get you. No rebel was safe from us. We will not quit, we will not give into your demands unless it was you surrendering. And as for the girl, we were showing you that it was people like her that you were harming.

You think that it's just peacekeepers that your hurting? Not even close.

Fighting, fighting, and more fighting. You call us out for our brutal methods to keep you in line, and what do you do? The same goddamn things that we do, but for some reason, your methods are justified while we're seen as monsters. How the hell does that work?

We shoot someone for stealing to show that nobody's allowed to steal. If one person can get away with it, then everyone will start stealing, and soon, the district will be full of thieves that think they can get away with it. There's a reason we have to place fear in the district's heart.

Was it right? Probably not, but when dealing with a district that was critical to Panem's very survival, you have to compromise somehow.

"Confirm tributes, over." The radio said to me.

"Delias Aldrich, twelve years of age." I replied. "Briony Wells, sixteen years of age. Over."

"Identities confirmed, drop them at the DL. Over."

"Roger. Over, out."

 **District Twelve Train**

Life was just beginning for these kids, and yet, it was most likely going to end.

Though, one of them was contributing to the end of a nation, another was just trying to live life. Hell, a random house, and boom, your life is over. That was the boy's story and why he got picked. Random house, random kid, bam, life over.

The girl on the other hand, she was picked deliberately. She was aiding the rebels, and that wasn't acceptable. Though all in all, she wasn't all that bad as she tended to treat everyone, but that was beside the point. She might of had good intentions in her heart, but aiding terrorists was something not to be taken lightly, and so, she was picked to compete in the Hunger Games.

Her efforts helped many a people, but indirectly, she was helping the turmoil that was plaguing the district. Just because you help one person, doesn't mean that you really help in general. If you heal a murderer, is that murderer going to turn over a new leaf and become a good guy because he was shown compassion? No. He'll probably go out and murder again.

Do the same with a good person however, and they'd be able to spread goodness around, hopefully. Not always the case though.

So just because you're helping people, doesn't mean that you're helping people.

Life can be hard and unexpected, just ask that boy. Just minding his own business, and when he wakes up, boom, the arena he sees. Life truly wasn't what you'd expect it to be.

"Confirm tributes, over." The radio crackled.

"Chock Roach, eighteen years of age." I answered. "Alaula Kingsty, fifteen years of age. Over."

"Identities confirmed. Deliver them to the DL, over."

"Roger, over, out."

I would say that I felt sorry for them, but truth be told, not really.

 **Peacekeeper Headquarters**

All the tributes were accounted for. No peacekeepers were dead during the raids, and there were no deaths of civilians and rebels alike. It went off mostly well, though there was that incident in District Four with Clarity Worthington and District Ten with , but all in all, an overall success.

I sent and Lightning the pictures of the tributes and reported to them that all the tributes were captured and on their way to the Capitol.

I gave a sigh of relief and allowed myself to lean back and relax for the moment.

Hopefully the resistance will get the message and end their actions before the whole nation destroyed itself.

 _List of tributes:_

 _D1 Boy: Cash Deliora (14)_

 _D1 Girl: Zoey Montague (14)_

 _D2 Boy: Eris Fontani (18)_

 _D2 Girl: Arista Osbourne (15)_

 _D3 Boy: Huxley Moon (18)_

 _D3 Girl: Eve Datter (17)_

 _D4 Boy: Turret Tawell (18)_

 _D4 Girl: Clarity Worthington (16)_

 _D5 Boy: Amaury Vernis (14)_

 _D5 Girl: Alaria Grindetti (18)_

 _D6 Boy: Tracker Hornsby (15)_

 _D6 Girl: Felix di Mauro (14)_

 _D7 Boy: Asher Dasos (17)_

 _D7 Girl: Mina Lokai (14)_

 _D8 Boy: Thiago Fredericks (18)_

 _D8 Girl: Astrid Luffet (15)_

 _D9 Boy: Harvest "Harv" Miller (17)_

 _D9 Girl: Mazie MacDonald (15)_

 _D10 Boy: Dyami Vale (16)_

 _D10 Girl: Cornelia Withers (17)_

 _D11 Boy: Delias Aldrich (12)_

 _D11 Girl: Briony Wells (16)_

 _D12 Boy: Chock Roach (18)_

 _D12 Girl: Alaula Kingsty (15)_

 **A/N: As you can probably see, D12 was short, and I don't feel bad about that. They're my tributes, I can give them as little as I want.**

 **So this was just a chapter on some peacekeepers point of views. Was it good? I don't know, you tell me. The next chapter is the tributes in the arena.**

 **CelticGames4, you're the lucky winner, I liked your question the best. I'll PM you.**


	15. Awakening

**District Four's Clarity Worthington (16)**

 **Day 1 10:00AM**

Blinded.

The world was full of high pitched ringing, white light, and distorted sounds. And before that was one of my rebel body guards telling me to run. It had to be the peacekeepers that were threatening to kidnap kids for the quell this year. They had came for me, like my family had feared. The thought of being forced into the Hunger Games was scary enough, and even with all those rebels looking out for me, I still felt the fear of knowing that I could be taken away at any time.

Had they gotten me? If so, how did they get past all those rebels? All fifteen of them, including my father, without Memory or I hearing anything until it was nearly too late? That rebel had barely gotten a single word out before I was blinded by bright and a deafening bang.

It was like my imagination had materialized then and there, as there were times I dreamt that peacekeepers would from the darkness as soon as I blinked. They were like ghosts. Silent, and appearing out of the darkness before I even realized what was going on.

And after that flash, there were hands. Hands grabbing me from everywhere, and I was struggling to prevent myself from being taken. It was scary, and I wanted to fight, but I should of ran, like I was told, like I was going to do, but for some reason, I became weak and tired. Unable to defend myself from those that wanted to do me harm.

But now was scary as well, because now everything was silent. Silent with darkness flooding my vision instead of a blank white. It made me think a heavy thought.

Was I... Was I dead? That would explain the darkness and eerie silence surrounding me, along with the hard cold feeling on my sides.

All those rebels, my dad, my sister and my mother. Did they die? If so, they would of died trying to protect me, only to fail, and I didn't want that. I started to feel sad just thinking about that.

No. I couldn't be dead, otherwise I wouldn't be thinking right now. I had to be alive and somewhere in the world of the living. But where?

I tried to open my eyes, but they were still heavy. They opened a crack, enough to let in some light, but it wasn't nearly enough to see. It was just a thin ray of bright white that I saw, and it showed nothing of the outside world.

Right now, I was hoping that that terrible experience was just a dream, a nightmare. That I had just fallen asleep and had dreamed that I was getting kidnapped by the peacekeepers. That dad and the other rebels had been... Shot dead? No. No they couldn't of died, because that one rebel that stumbled into our home like a drunk didn't die? At least, I hope he didn't. If he didn't die, then that would mean that dad and the others wouldn't of been dead either!

I felt a little smile creep onto my face, something that made me sure that I really wasn't dead. And the more I thought of how it was just a bad dream, the more I thought that was what it was. After all, not even the peacekeepers could of gotten to me without a sound being made. I mean, fifteen armed enemies are in front of you peacekeepers, there's no way that you could of been that stealthy. The more I thought about it, the more ridiculous it sounded. Ha, funny what kind of thoughts can get to you when you just had a bad dream.

Slowly, I opened my eyes and saw the fuzzy world in front of me. Everything was distorted and I could hardly make out a single thing from the blurred lines and the white, grey, and black landscape. I blinked a couple of times and rubbed by eyes before I yawned and said.

"Hey, Memory, what time is it?"

I didn't get an answer. No big deal, she was probably asleep or had gone to the bathroom or something. "Mom, are you awake yet?" I asked, only to hear no answer from her either. I stopped rubbing my eyes, but didn't remove my arm from my eyes as I started to get worried. "Dad? Anybody?" Still nothing.

I didn't want to look, but I knew that I had to anyway.

With some trembling, and no shortage of fear, I lowered my arm to confirm my terror. And what I saw confirmed it indeed.

In front of me was a ruined wasteland. A land that lay in uneven rubble and crumbling buildings. Nearly nothing was left intact, there were many skeletal buildings that looked like that had the mortar framing done, but not much else. And then there were some that here half destroyed or more, standing like flower vases that had fallen and broken unevenly on one side. And of any of those buildings, nothing looked stable. They looked ancient and ready to fall at a moment's notice.

What I had wished was just a nightmare, was no longer just. The peacekeepers had succeeded, and I was in the Hunger Games. And along with the terror that was rushing through me, confusion washed over me as well.

What the hell was this? What kind of arena was this? And... And why weren't we taken to the Capitol first? Wasn't there supposed to be chariot rides, training sessions and interviews before heading into the arena? Did the Capitol just change the rules? This wasn't right. If I was going to go into the games, I should of been able to make an impact on the Capitol audience first.

Sponsors. I needed sponsors. And if I wasn't going to show off in the Capitol, I'd need to show them that they could make a good investment in me. And if I was in the arena now, the best thing to do was do something good during the bloodbath, like show that I could survive. And if I needed to kill someone, then okay.

That's when it hit me. Oh my god! How many seconds did we have before the gong sounded? I started to look around for the cornucopia, just to make sure that I was at least facing the right direction when it sounded off, only to find that I couldn't find the golden horn anywhere. There was nothing but ruin everywhere.

Okay... Now this was really weird. No Capitol tour, no cornucopia? What was this? Was the Capitol just messing with me? I looked down, and discovered that I wasn't even standing on the metal plate that blew tributes up if they got off too early. Instead, I was standing on a large slab of concrete instead. Okay then. This was not ordinary.

As confusing as I was, I thought of another way to get the Capitol's attention. The Capitol folks were shallow, and liked tributes that were attractive. I'd like to think I was attractive, so that was a plus.

I looked myself over, and saw that I was still wearing the plain white t-shirt and simple blue shorts from last night. At least the Capitol wasn't sadistic enough to make me walk the arena barefoot as they had placed my shoes on me.

It wasn't going to make as big an impact if I was in my reaping clothes, but it was a lot better then running around in a death arena with a black skirt on. The purple blouse I would of liked though. But between the shoes I'm wearing now and the flats I could be wearing, I'd take either one.

I wanted to check my hair and face, but without a mirror, that was going to be impossible, and it was almost driving me mad. I liked to keep up appearances, and now it was more important than ever. The Capitol may expect someone from Twelve to be dirty and unkempt, but a girl from Four, they'd expect her to be prim and proper. Ugh, this was frustrating. The most important time of my life to look lady like and I couldn't even see myself or have the tools to make myself into that image.

Using my hands to check my hair, it didn't feel half bad, but I couldn't be sure without a mirror.

Well, could be worse, I guess.

I sighed and looked around this wasteland. Damn, what's a girl going to do in this place?

The trainers always told us to go for the cornucopia and fight for our supplies. But now, there were no supplies anywhere. No food, no water, no weapons. What was I supposed to do?

I guess I'll go look for supplies. A weapon's a start. Improve my chances of surviving an encounter with another tribute or a mutt. Next will be water, as you don't live long without it, and after that, food.

Looking around one last time, I couldn't stop any of the three. Well, exploring time, should do it now than later. It was still early in the game, didn't need to worry about mutts or starvation yet, only the tributes. And I was a trained career, the only thing I needed to worry about were other careers. If anyone else got in my way, I'm sure I could handle myself.

 **District Ten's Cornelia Withers (17)**

 **10:02AM**

To say that I was surprised would of been wrong. But at the same time, it was also right.

When I first opened my eyes, I realized that I wasn't dead, and that was a relief for about two seconds before I remembered why I was opening my eyes in the first place. That man with the green bandanna around his mouth and the mirrored sunglasses. I had heard a sound, and then felt as if I wanted to fall asleep.

I didn't know what he wanted with me, but at that moment, I knew that whatever he wanted from me, he wouldn't get it from me as long as I was awake. And if he were foolish enough to stick around for as long as I was unconscious, then he'd really be sorry. Not that it would matter in the long run, I would find him and I'd make him pay for what he did to me. Whatever that was.

Then I saw broken concrete. Cracked and aged, it reminded me of the houses that were commonly built in the district, especially if you were out in the rural side of the district. And that's where I expected to be, in the outskirts of District Ten, in that man's house. But that wasn't the case. Instead, when I looked up farther, I saw that it wasn't just a wall, but it was a pile of whatever parts had once been several crudely made houses. It almost looked like it could of built a few of those high towers that you see broadcasted on the tv when the tributes reach the Capitol.

I highly doubted that the Capitol was destroyed in the time that I was asleep, so I had to be somewhere else, if not someone's home or a ruined Capitol. Was I in some kind of abandoned part of the district where this sick fuck could play with me?

I looked around for that bastard, but I didn't see him anywhere. I didn't hear him anywhere. I didn't feel as if he was around me, and I felt no sense of danger as I stood around looking at the decaying buildings in front of me.

It looked like an empty, destroyed world, and I wondered how I got here. And where I was. Not in any part of the district that I knew of, and I had been around the district a lot. I learned about areas that someone my class in the district shouldn't of even known of, thanks to the rich folks that pay me well to please them. There were other benefits to my job than the pay, the gifts, and the pleasure that they bought me.

For that reason, I was surprised that I didn't recognize where I was, but I wasn't surprised that I had been kidnapped. After all, my line of work involved me working with the more shady of characters of the district, not just some older man that wanted to be with someone young and be a wife cheater.

I looked around for any clues that could of told me where I was, but didn't find any in the immediate area. I then started to wonder why that man had kidnapped me, and I looked at myself to see if that man had done anything to me. And to my surprise, I was still wearing the same green and blue checkered shirt and light green skirt, and that he had put my knee high boots on my feet as well.

Okay, so he probably didn't rape me in my sleep, and me feeling nothing in my lower area only seemed to confirm that. Seeing that the man had foolishly left me untied, I checked my pockets, and felt nothing in them, so he had robbed me for money. A daring plan really, pay someone only so that you could rob them, but he was sloppy, because if I was going to rob someone, even if their face couldn't be identified straight away, I would of killed who I was thieving from.

That was going to be his downfall, because if word gets out that I had been stolen from, then every desperate thief is going to come to my brothel and steal my profits, and maybe even shut me down. I didn't want that, because even though I had the looks and was willing to let people bang me, I didn't want to start from square one again. No. I had put in too much effort for me to fall to that level. So when I find that man, I'm going to kill him and send a message to anyone that's thinking about taking what's mine.

I can only hope that Nina can take care of my slice of the sex trade while I'm gone. I needed to get back there soon, otherwise I'd be finished before the rumor spread of me being an easy picking. Nina might be able to run the business without me for a short time, but it was plainly obvious that the skittish girl she was could be taken advantage of.

I may of been angry before, but now this was really pissing me off. Whoever had done this to me was going to pay greatly. In one single move, he was threatening to bring down everything that I had worked towards! In fact, now that I thought about it, I'd be below square one if this got out. If I didn't get back to my place in time, it won't matter if I kill that man or not. Fuck! I did not want to end up like my dad!

I started to run in the direction that looked like it could of lead back to the more central area of the district, picking up a piece of concrete that was somewhat smaller than a brick, just in case I meet the man that was trying to ruin me.

If I found him in the middle of my path, I would bash his face in until his brains were staining the dirt!

 **District Seven's Mina Lokai (14)**

 **10:04AM**

I tried to remember what happened, and why I couldn't remember bringing dinner to my family out in the forest. I was getting it ready for them, putting it into my backpack before everything went blank.

What do I remember?

Tried. I remember feeling, tired.

And I saw this person in black pointing a gun at me, right before I started to fall asleep.

Who was that person and what did they want? I mean, my family isn't rich or anything, but we were better off than some, and that might encourage them to try and rob us. I'm sorry mom. I'm sorry dad. I'm sorry Christoph. You won't be getting any dinner form me dad and big brother. And mom, you'll have to see stuff missing from our home.

I'm sorry that I got scared, but at least I'm not dead, right? Valuables can be replaced, but family is something not worth of external value and couldn't be replaced. Hopefully they'll forgive me.

That's what I had been thinking when I started to come to my senses. And when I opened my eyes, I found that things were worse than a simply robbery. Much worse. I found myself in a place that I didn't recognize, a world of broken concrete, piles of splintered wood, and destroyed bricks. Buildings in all stages of decay, from ones that were aged and not properly maintained, to those that were just piles of rubbish.

I wasn't in District Seven, not even close. I knew that much. The next question was, where was I. If I wasn't in District Seven, that could only mean that either I had escaped from the district, or I had been reaped to the Capitol. And I didn't think that I escaped past the electrified fences of my district. There was no talk of escape with my family, or anyone that I knew. And even if that were the case, I would of seen someone by now, but I didn't see a single soul.

That could only of meant one thing, I was kidnapped by the Capitol. I soon realized with horror, that I was in the arena. And even though there was no reaping, no trip to the Capitol, none of that regular jazz, and yet, this was the only logical explanation.

As the fear inside me intensified, so did my thoughts. Why would they kidnap me? They could of just drawn my name out of the reaping bowl instead of this. Or maybe they did do that, and the quell was secret for this very reason. So that guy in black was a peacekeeper I'm guessing. Shoot me, knock me out, and take me straight to the arena. A secret quell that had you suddenly thrust into the arena with no warning other than 'you might get picked on reaping day'.

And now I was here. What was I going to do? What was I going to do? My head started to spin as my breathing got shallow and swift.

Okay Mina, calm down and think. Think about the best plan of action and how you're going to survive and go home. What would the survivors do in a situation like this? What were the things you'd need to have in order to survive in a hostile environment?

Taking several moments to take several deep and slow breaths, I felt myself calm down, and felt my body shake less. Something I hadn't even been aware of before.

When I wasn't panicking as much, I looked around again for the essentials you'd need in the arena. I needed water, food, a safe place to sleep, and a weapon in order to survive the arena. Those things came first. Secondary things were comfort things that made things easier, but not necessary for survival. Like a blanket. Unless this arena got cold enough, I could survive without a blanket, but it would be more comfortable than sleeping on hard rock exposed to the elements.

And allies. Allies were a double bladed weapon. They could be useful, but they could also stab you in the back. After all, only one can leave the arena alive.

So, first thing's first Mina, find water, food, shelter, and a weapon. Focus on others later.

I looked at my surroundings for anything that could indicate those four essentials, and saw that one of them was laying all around me. Weapons. If you looked closely and used your head, you could see that there were improvised weapons everywhere.

Gently navigating my way to one such weapon, careful to not fall and injury myself this early in the game, I hopped from one slab of concrete to the next until I made it to my destination. There, I picked up a piece of wood that looked like it could be used as a nice bludgeoning weapon. But the instant I picked it up, it felt wrong. It felt unbalanced and fragile.

To test that theory, I hit the large rock I was standing on, and the piece of timber shattered in half, leaving me with something that was just about useless. Sighing, I grabbed a board that looked like it was in better condition. I examined it, and it didn't look like it was water rotted, unbalanced, warped, or termite eaten. Hitting the rock below me again, I saw the board didn't break. Perfect, now I was protected a little.

I looked at the horizon and plotted my next move. I didn't want to be seen, and this was going to take some getting used to since I was used to a forested area instead of whatever this was.

 **A/N: Okay everyone, first thing's first, my first goal for this fic is achieved. Get the tributes into the games, done. Next two goals? Have every tribute have a POV in the arena, and kill one of them.**

 **I know that I said that the chapters would be longer when we got to the arena, but, hopefully that'll come later as well when things really gain momentum. Or maybe this won't be a long fanfic. I'm all right with that.**


	16. First Blood

_A/N: I should of gave a warning in the last chapter, but I forgot, and nothing happened there anyway. So here's to all of you. I still don't think I should do this, but someone said to me that some of the stuff I put out earlier might affect some people, so here's word of warning. Some scenes might not be suitable for all readers. This story will contain graphic violence and torture, strong language, some of which will be of demeaning nature, sexual content, drug and alcohol use and references, and some other messed up things as well._

 _I will put up warnings for things that I think might need to be addressed, so expect them to be far and between._

 **District Five's Amaury Vernis (14)**

 **Day 1 10:05AM**

I had awoken to a nightmare.

When I had opened my eyes, I thought that I'd be in Panem, a place where my family and I would be safe. A place that I thought could keep us safe, and a place that we could stay in forever, until I woke up. I expected to be in my home with my mother making a meager meal of something. Instead, I found that I was laying in a large sheet of plywood.

I didn't remember sleeping on the floor, so I looked around, and discovered that I was laying in the middle of a half collapsed house. Two of the four main walls had fallen, and I was laying on one of those walls. The roof was broken open with shingles missing and broken boards that stuck out of the foundation like broken bones out of a body. And the house was bare. Nothing was inside it. And around the house were other collapsed features.

Piles of crumbling blocks, discarded wood and bricks, and cracked pavement. This reminded me of home. My former home.

I didn't even get to my feet when I had a horrifying thought. Had I been kicked out of Panem and got sent back to Louerren? This I did not want to believe. What had I done wrong? What had my family done wrong that was so bad that we were kicked out of District Five along with Panem? Whatever we did, we didn't deserve to be delivered back to Louerren. We had escaped there for a reason.

We did what we were told by the Panem government. We worked, we obeyed their laws, we did everything that we were told to do and didn't do a thing that we were told was forbidden. So why? Why of all things would they kick us out of our new home? My chest and throat tightened up as my eyes started to burn.

I wanted to cry, I really did, but if we were back in Louerren, or even if we were still in Panem but outside that electric fence, we were in danger. Crying wouldn't of helped, so I held it in the best I could, but even so, my eyes watered a little and tears fell free.

Darn it. Why?

I finally got to my feet and looked around to see if I could find my mother and little sister. I couldn't survive out here alone. If it weren't for our combined efforts out there, we would of never made it to Panem. I couldn't do this without them, and they couldn't get somewhere safe without me. We needed each other. And even if they could, I don't think mom would of wanted to leave without me. Ever since dad died by those giant wasps, mom watched over Cerise and I like we were all that mattered in the world.

It would devastate her if the three of us didn't get back together. I mean, if dad dying turned her into the stoic person she is now, what would being all alone do to her?

Running my arm through my eyes, I cleared my sight a little before wandering the house in search for them.

"Mère!" (Mother!) I said loud enough that she could hopefully hear me from a distance, but hopefully quiet enough that nobody else could hear me. "Cerise!" No answer came, so I called again, this time only slightly louder. Again, there was no response. It was not what I wanted to hear.

I felt fear build up inside of me as I thought of how we could all of been separated from each other. Why would they do that? Wasn't it bad enough that we were kicked out of our new homes just when we thought things were going to stay relatively good forever?

And if we did indeed break a rule we were unaware of, why was the charge so high? It's not like we killed someone. Right? As far as I know, we didn't even try and hurt anyone. I looked around for anything that they might of given me, but I found nothing in or around this house except for the clothes I was wearing. Plain, old, pale shorts and shirt that were expertly made by my mother that were relatively clean. And there were some soft shoes on my feet, and though they were falling apart, I was glad that they weren't taken away from me.

Back in my homeland, if someone caught you and you were lucky enough to live through it, you were thankful just to get away with your life. They would take everything from you. Not just your money, supplies, and weapons if you were carrying any, but also your clothes. Shoes were something that everyone liked to steal, and I couldn't blame them. Good shoes were hard to find in Louerren if you weren't a warlord or something. And shoes quickly got destroyed thanks to the civil war. Mud, blood, rain, fighting, it all put a strain on them.

And there were worse things than waking up naked in the middle of the street. Being kidnapped and forced to fight for dictator, the rebels, or a profiteering warlord. Having your teeth removed to be used as bullets for one of their guns, or having your organs removed to save someone you neither met before or care about. I shuddered to even remember those.

So even in this situation, Panem was far more merciful than Louerren. My old friends would of loved it here if they weren't all dead.

If we were somehow back in Louerren, I couldn't stay here long, not with all the danger around. I needed to find my mother and sister before someone else did. And if we were near the outside of the fence of District Five, then I still needed to find my mother and sister and try to get back into the district. Maybe the peacekeepers will realize that they made a mistake or something and let us back in after saying sorry.

Wishful thinking, but it's worth a try.

Needing a weapon to defend myself from either people or animals, I looked around to see if there was anything that I could use, and found boards that could be used to hit people with. Picking up a board, I felt it, and it felt sturdy. Alone it was probably nothing too great to fear, but what made it scary were the nails sticking out at the end of the board.

If I was lucky, I wouldn't need to fight anyone, but if worst came to worst and they attacked me, the nails could provide good assistance.

Wiping my eyes one last time, I ran out of the house and began my search for my mother and sister before it was too late. I just prayed that I wasn't too late.

 **District Two's Arista Osbourne (15)**

 **10:21AM**

At first I was confused.

I didn't know where I was, and the only thing I knew for sure was that I was no longer in my room, like I should of been. For one thing, the room I was in was slightly cold, and my room was never cold, not even in the winter. My family could afford to have heat in the house, and so, it was never below room temperature. Second of all, my room was wet. And when I first felt that cold dampness, I at first I thought that it was just all my sweat from last night soaking into my body, but then I realized that I wasn't feeling any of my bed sheets around my body.

I told myself that I must of fallen asleep on the floor again, and while I wasn't too happy about that, it was understandable. Even though I remembered going up the stairs and into my room before climbing into bed. I said goodnight to everyone before I slept, but I told myself I could of imagined that, even if it felt so real.

But the second I opened my eyes, I saw a wall that didn't look like mine. Instead, the wall was water rotted and plain. It didn't have the academy notices or anything else that I had pinned on the wall. There was no bed or window or anything. And what little furniture there was around were old and filthy. And the place had bugs crawling around. So I definitely knew that it wasn't my room, and because it was rotting, I knew that it wasn't my house at all as my family would never of allowed something like that to happen.

Quickly, I got to my feet to see my surroundings, only to see something that resembled an entire district getting bombed. Buildings were half finished, but most had crumbled to the ground. Bits of them were scattered across the land, and there was nobody in sight.

At first I thought the district had been annihilated by those damn rebels, but then I thought of how ridiculous it was. There was no way that the rebels could of destroyed all of District Two overnight, and even if they did, I would of woken up and witnessed it myself.

I then felt scared, because I didn't know what was happening and where I was. I saw nothing but ruin, and I heard nothing except my own breathing. What had happened to my district, if this was even my district.

I then checked over myself to make sure that I wasn't dreaming, and that's when I noticed I was still wearing my training clothes from last night. They weren't soaked with sweat, but they still smelt of it. And that's when I noticed something that wasn't there before. Instead of just snug black material and a white stripe across the shoulders, I saw a small number stitched onto the shoulders. It was the number two.

I removed my shirt and examined the rest of the shirt, and saw that the numbers weren't just on both shoulders, it was stitched onto the back of the shirt as well. The one on the back was several times larger, and it was nearly as tall and wide as the side of the shirt itself.

That's when it hit me. It was a golden number representing my district. This ruined city, it was the arena. That quarter quell, that one that was being kept a secret from the public, maybe that's what this was for. To unsuspectedly take someone and throw them into the arena.

At that moment, I was no longer scared or confused. Instead, I was angry. I was angry at the Capitol for throwing me into the Hunger Games too early. I was going to volunteer when I was eighteen! I was three years too young for this!

I ended up throwing my shirt at the wall before I let out a string of curse words to tell the Capitol just how frustrated I was about the situation. I then told them that they had taken me too early and that I would of gladly volunteered in three years before I fell to my knees and exhaled heavily.

I then apologized the to the Capitol, knowing that they were listening, and didn't want to ruin my chances with them. They were powerful, and in the arena, they were a lifeline that you couldn't afford to throw away.

I looked out in the arena again, and realized that there was no cornucopia, so in turn, I wasn't going to be getting weapons or supplies like normal. That was going to be a problem. And there was another problem to go along with that, none of the other careers were around. So our power pack wasn't going to be a beginning factor, meaning that our strength in numbers factor was down.

Well, I knew what I had to do, I had to find weapons, supplies, and the other careers.

After retrieving my shirt and placing it back on, I searched the house to see if there were any supplies inside it. And while there wasn't any regular supplies that people would think of, there was plenty of junk around. And if you looked carefully, that junk could transform into something useful.

For example, I found a long, thin, but strong, wooden rod and a flat piece of jagged metal. After ripping off part of my shirt sleeve and using the threads to bind the piece of metal and wooden rod together, I had created a homemade hatchet. It was crude, more than likely wouldn't be that sharp or powerful, and certainly wouldn't win me any awards, but could still injure someone and kill them. Hopefully.

In addition to the crude hatchet, I constructed three shivs from broken metal with sharp, pointed tips. Sneak up behind someone and stab them in the back of the neck and watch them bleed to death as they have no idea what's happening to them.

But were these enough though.

Now wandering the devastated streets, I looked at these weapons. I started to wonder if they would fail me when I needed them the most. The strings could break and the hatchet could fall apart, or the improvised knives could break or not be sharp enough to penetrate deeply enough. They weren't finely crafted weapons, they were items made by a desperate girl.

I looked at the homemade weapons angrily.

Err... Even so, I couldn't let this frustrate me too much. Irina was watching me right now, and I couldn't appear to look weak in front of her, what would she think if I failed? What would she think if I started to doubt myself? All that training I did, she'd then think that training wouldn't change anything, and she'd start to neglect it.

And then there was Livia. If she saw me break down this early in the games because of a single setback, then she'll think that no amount of training can prepare her for peacekeeper training and she'll spend the rest of her life not amounting up to anything.

And Maximus, if he were here he'd probably tell me that I shouldn't worry, because if I find another career I'll team up with them. And that me having these shitty weapons was only to slightly even the odds with the non-careers. Because even with this disadvantage, the non-careers would stand no chance against me.

Was that true? Maybe. I wasn't sure.

I sighed and continued to walk through this area of destruction, looking within the buildings to see if I could find supplies or tributes.

 **District Eleven's Delias Aldrich (12)**

 **10:36AM**

If the Capitol was going for a theme with their arena this year, they probably went with the destruction of a nation. They were probably trying to show what would happen if we allowed the rebels to continue their work, but what they didn't think about was the destruction they were doing to the districts. They were bleeding us dry by taking away all our food and keeping it for themselves, so in a way, they were symbolizing the suffering of the districts.

Just like the dirty, ragged clothes I wore, this arena looked like a city that tried to look like it could be saved. But no matter how much you tried to save it, the best you could do was maintain it, because try as my mother did, she couldn't completely save these rags that we called a shirt and pants. Didn't even have any shoes to save my feet from touching cold hard stones and pointed metal shards that littered the arena ground. The only thing that changed about my clothes were the golden numbers stitched into the shoulders and the back. It was to show the world what district I was from. Eleven.

I was kind of used to it though. Walking around District Eleven was almost the same as walking through here. The only difference was that instead of thorns and pointed plants, I was walking through metal shards and occasionally a piece of rebar would poke at me.

If this kept up for long my feet would start to look like my hands. Covered in scars, but they'd have to get my flesh sliced open and bleed before they scared.

As I stepped on another piece of chipped concrete and howled in pain, I couldn't help but wonder if the Capitol hadn't send me some shoes because they liked seeing me suffer more than I already had to. I mean, I was already in the arena, was it not enough that I had to fight for those animals entertainment? No, apparently they're just sick bastards who want to see as much suffering as possible.

Maybe that's why the peacekeepers just stood around and watched my father slowly kill himself in the fields and did nothing to help. They wanted to see him suffer, because to them, he wasn't worth saving. What's one worker when you have thousands of others?

The Capitol didn't care about our lives. The work we did in our district, the Hunger Games, we were just work horses to be used until we drop dead.

Tasi tells me that I should be a little bit more optimistic and be less serious all the time, but how can I be calm when all this suffering is going on around me?

Because of the uncaring of the Capitol, my father died, causing my mother to lower her status in the district, and forcing me to live the life I'm living now. I'm hoping that the rebels can make the Capitol look like this arena in the near future. Then the Capitol will know our suffering.

If I actually manage to win, then I wouldn't have to leave my mother alone in this world, and I can support the rebels as much as I wanted to, and more. But how can a twelve year old from Eleven win the games against all the other tributes? Especially the careers? I don't know, but I'll find a way.

Just like the rebels, when things didn't seem in their favor, they somehow found a way to turn it around. There was one story that I was told where a single rebel managed to blow up two armored trucks and disable a third, killing fourteen peacekeepers and wounding the rest. So if a single rebel can do all that, there was a chance that I could win this thing against other kids.

Walking over another hill of crumbled blocks, I thought of Tasi and how she always seemed to smile. What was with that smile? Why would you have a reason to smile in District Eleven? All I could see around the district was suffering. And being optimistic didn't change that. Sure it was good to think about the rebels making progress in their cause, but other than that, I saw nothing.

She said that we should be thankful to even be alive at twelve years old. Why though? So we can continue to be servants to the Capitol and endure the punishing heat and taste the blood and sweat we shed for those bastards?

I remember my first meeting with Tasi. We had been at school, and while we were young, we were old enough to understand the world around us. And I was just like her, idealistic. I thought that things would get better and tried to look on the brighter side of things.

But when dad died, I stopped that childish thinking and started to really think. I started to become real. No use trying to fool yourself when you know that all your wishful thinking is just lies you try to tell yourself to feel better for just a moment. I learned to accept things how they were, because you can't change the reality you're living.

Now at the top of this mountain of ruin, I couldn't help but think that this arena is just like District Eleven. It may be more concrete and stuff than home, but it was the same. A place that handles the destruction of the body and soul. Only the arena was more empty than Eleven.

Taking a moment to rest my aching feet, I laid my butt down on the rubble and looked at the landscape, wondering if I could live long enough to see the Capitol become this. Wondering if when the rebels succeed, I'll be able to sit on a fallen block of a Capitol building and see the aftermath of their demise. Let them feel something that we feel inside and out.

 _ **A/N: It's probably at this point that I should warn you about the repugnant language that will come up in this section. You have been warned.**_

 **District Eight's Thiago Fredericks (18)**

 **10:42AM**

Those fucking peacekeepers were going to pay for what they did to me! Not only did those pieces of shit dare attack me, but they also threw me into the Hunger Games! Like that was going to stop me from giving those dogs what they deserved. I was going to get out and they would pay deeply.

I had planned on volunteering this year anyway, so this wasn't a set back or anything, the only difference this made was how I was going to entertain the Capitol. I had originally planned on making some kills during the bloodbath before taking down every single cunt that dared get in my path.

But that plan had gone to the dogs when I woke up and realized that there was no cornucopia, and there were no tributes around to kill. How was I supposed to kill someone without a weapon? Sure I could just beat them to death, but how long would it take to crush someone's skull beneath my foot? I could do it easily, but why punch someone when you could slice and dice them to the death?

I would of liked a knife. A knife would of been good. A sword would of been even better. I could sink the blade into some faggot's neck and watch the life bleed out from them. The same thing will happen to the peacekeepers that attacked me when I return back home as a victor. Same with those black clothed dick bags. Victors were invincible, untouchable. So with the power I already possessed, and the power of a victor, I would be someone that nobody would mess with. I would be someone to be feared, and I could do whatever I wanted without those pathetic peacekeepers spoiling the fun.

Yes. I wouldn't have to worry about getting caught. It would just be like a never ending Hunger Games back in District Eight. I could attack anyone, and they wouldn't be able to fight back. I could kill someone, and the peacekeepers would be forced to look the other way.

Just thinking about that made me think of a time when my friend, Weaver, and I, had broken into this guy's house and made a mess of his building and his body and his wife because he actually thought that we'd be better off if more peacekeepers came into the districts.

Why? To stop all the crime that was happening in the district? If it was so bad for you why don't you do something about it? Oh yeah, because you're helpless. You can't survive in this world because you depend on the peacekeepers and can't defend yourself. It was easily proven when Weaver made that asshole eat his own teeth. That man was absolutely pathetic, and his wife was even more so. But what did you expect, she was a woman, and a woman can't handle a world that was meant for the strong and mighty. The best they can hope for is to find a worthy man to serve.

And that man, if that pussy could even be called a man, was left alive so he could see just how worthless of a human he was. I told him that if he squealed on us, then I would slit his throat after forcing him to watch Weaver rape his wife. That pussy didn't have the balls to say anything to some faggot peacekeeper. I was kind of hoping that he would, just so we could show him just how powerless he really was.

Yeah, that's right, tell on us like some little bitch so we can come back to your house and finish what we started. The peacekeepers would question us, but they wouldn't be able to touch me or my friend without angering my father. And they did not want that.

But here, in the arena, I could do whatever I wanted felt like. There were no annoying peacekeepers, and there was no need to hide what I had done. See, the arena is only scary to the people that can't handle the power struggle. They were weak, they were cowards, and they didn't deserve to live in the real world.

The real world was a cruel place, and if they weren't the ones fucking shit up, they were the ones being fucked in the ass like some sort of queer bag.

I continued to wander the arena, basking in all it's glory. It was like a war zone, a place where the manliest of men fought each other so that they could show the other side who was the better part of the species. A fitting battle ground considering the circumstances. The weak will die while the strong will thrive. The arena, the lawless land of Panem, this is how the nation should be ran. The Capitol understood that. They were the strong, so they pushed the weak down, allowing the privileged to be above the lowly scum that littered the districts.

Smiling at that, I looked around the arena to see who would be my first victim. Would it be a boy or girl? Girls were unworthy of the battle field by default, so they should be the first to go. Though there were always exceptions.

Going around a building that had a corner blown out, I spotted a small hill of fallen concrete, and on top of that was a person. I grinned to myself, thinking of how I had finally found a victim that I could destroy. And as I got closer, I could only grin wider as I saw what it was.

The large, golden number on it's back was an eleven. And to top it off, it was some little black monkey sitting on top of a pile of shit.

Perfect, this was a chance to get rid of some competition, while at the same time, cleansing the human race of some walking, talking, sub-species that were barely out of their animal state. There's a reason that most of them reside in Eleven and Nine. Farming equipment, that's what they were, and Eleven and Nine still embraced that concept.

Stepping gingerly, I silently got closer and closer to that tainted human, taking care not to let him discover that I was right behind him. Climbing the hill of broken concrete proved to be somewhat of a challenge, as I couldn't let anything make a sound, and if I slipped and let something fall, that would of allowed him to run away.

But I climbed and climbed until I was right behind him. He didn't know that I was here, dumbass. And that's when I shoved him forward, and the little monkey tumbled down the rock pile like a loose stone right after a shriek of surprise.

I heard him give out painful grunts with each landing he took before he finally crashed to the bottom. I ran down as quickly as I could, not even attempting to be quiet anymore. I needed to get to him before he got up.

And what do you know, I managed to get to him just as he was attempting to get to his feet. He was on his knees with his hands touching the ground, and that's when I gave him a sharp kick to the ribs, causing him to scream and fall on his face.

Laughing at this poor, pathetic creature, I raised me right leg and smashed my foot into his face, causing him to holler in pain.

"How's it going black stain?" I asked the boy before I grabbed him by his ratty shirt and forced him to his knees. "Thinking of how low on the food chain you are?" I then striked him across the face once, twice, three times before I spoke again. "You shouldn't. See, things like you shouldn't think about that." I then slammed a knee right into his gut, causing him to lose whatever air had been in his lungs. "You should let the ones above you choose where you stand in life."

I then threw him back on the ground as he coughed pathetically and desperately tried to get air in his system. Kicking him across the face, it was enough to draw blood this time as a line of red splashed from his mouth. "Now I'm going to be more than fair with you," I told him as I noticed his hand moving. I didn't know what he was moving it to, but I didn't want him to do anything, so I stomped my heel on it before I started to grind it into the concrete. The boy cried out in agony as I felt his bones and knuckles getting destroyed. "How do you want to die?"

The boy struggled against me, but it was no use, he was just too weak to do anything. He was an example of what needed to be exterminated from the human race. "Answer me you backwards fuckwit." I snarled before I let my foot off his injuries hand and grabbed it with both my hands. "How do you want to die?"

I then wrapped one hand around his index finger and pulled it back. The boy screamed, but I didn't pay him much attention as I continued to tug at it. It bent back further and further, and the more I did that, the more he screamed. Until it went beyond it's limit, and there was a wet crack that sounded off. That's when he started to absolutely howl with agony. And I couldn't be more pleased. A little more pressure, and broken bone started to rip apart the flesh that originally contained it. Blood ran from the newly formed hole in his hand. "Need some more time to think?" I mocked as the boy started to leak tears from his eyes.

One of his fingers was nearly touching the back of his hand and blood was going down his palm. A matching set would do just fine.

That monkey started to blubber something, but instead of listening, I concentrated on his middle finger. I grabbed it, and pulled on it in the exact same manner as the last finger, and soon, there was an equally satisfying snap ringing in my ears, and another cry of pure agony from the boy.

That's when he cried out something that I couldn't understand, but I shouldn't be all that surprised, creatures like him weren't all that smart. "Oh, your letting me decide?" I then shoved him to the ground again to let him bathe in his own misery. "As you wish."

I then started to search for the perfect chunk of concrete to crush his face with. Heavy enough that it was shatter his skull and send his tiny brain flying out, but not so heavy that I couldn't carry it.

In my search for that perfect weapon, I felt something hard hit me in the back of the head. Mother fucker, what was that? I felt the back of my head and felt no blood, but it hurt like hell!

I turned, and saw the little boy grabbing another piece of broken concrete and throw it at me. He wasn't even standing. He looked angry, he looked scared, and he was attacking me when I was going to be merciful to him!

Irritated, I dodged the incoming attack, letting it sail past before I picked up a good sized chunk of concrete, bigger than both my hands put together, and charged at him. The boy's expression suddenly turned from scared and angry, to just plain scared. He raised his arms to defend himself, only for the stone to break through his defenses and smash him across the face. He fell flat on the ground once again, and I intended for it to be the last time.

Placing my right leg on his back and applying pressure, I made sure that he couldn't escape. That's when I started to bash the rock on the back of his head with all my might.

The first strike pushed his face deep into the ruins. The second strike cut his head open. Each strike after that opened the wound even more. By the fifth strike there was a noticeable dent in his head.

I kept on hitting him and hitting him, even after he stopped crying and moving. Soon, the back of his head had broken open, and I saw a tiny splash of some kind of mushy brown substance come from the inside of his head. Probably his brain. I knew that there was something different about these apes. Brains were supposed to be a pinkish colour, not brown, that just showed how tainted these black people were.

Sighing as I wiped the sweat that had formed at my brow, I got off the now dead creature and examined what I had done. I looked at the scene and felt pride. I had just made the world a better place. I would piss on the body, but I didn't have anything to piss out.

Grinning to myself, I tossed the used piece of concrete away and walked away from the body as a cannon fired.

There was a lot of work to do, and someone had to do something.

 **A/N: I take no pride in the vulgar language and views of Thiago.**

 **Should I give warnings to you guys in future chapters or no?**

 **I'm almost done with finding pictures, so by the next chapter, I should have a blog set up or something.**


	17. Battle Ready

**District Two's Arista Osbourne (15)**

 **Day 1 11:04AM**

A cannon had fired, so if there was any doubt about where we were, that cannon shot should of shattered any doubt. It did for me, and others would either have to be blind or ignorant to not know that they were in the arena. That, or they possible wouldn't want to believe it. I partly didn't want to believe that the Capitol would force me into the games three years early, but then again, it was the Capitol, there had to be a reason for their choice. But whatever it was, it didn't matter, I was here now, and there was nothing that I could do to change that.

Right now, the only thing that mattered to me that was I accomplish what I had wanted to do my entire life, and that was to win the games. But what I had with me wasn't something that was worthy of being called a weapon. After all, my hatchet was just a sharp piece of metal tied to a metal rod while my knives were just pieces of pointed metal.

And the person in front of me, they had a duffle bag slung across their back. Where they had gotten that I do not know, but what was even more unfair was the thing that they had clipped to their belt. It was a long piece of hard plastic with a steel cross sticking out the top of it. It was a proper weapon, a sword.

They had found an actual weapon while I was stuck with this garbage. Damn it! This was unfair! But what did the trainers at the academy tell me? Life wasn't fair, and sometimes the Capitol will like a tribute more than they should just because they were good looking? Yes, that was it. Just like that one tribute, what's his face? Monty somebody or other from District Nine?

Yeah, him. He won because the Capitol liked him for his looks when he had nothing else to offer. Sure he was a decent fighter, for someone from a non-career district, but he had not been someone that was worthy of victory. It was only because of Capitol interference that that bitch had won. But that was few and between, most of the time, those that deserved to win had won, and this was going to be a year for that.

That guy may of gotten that duffle bag for whatever reason, but that was not going to save him from someone that actually knew what they were doing.

Just looking at that guy I knew that even if I wasn't the one that was going to attack him, he wouldn't of lasted very long. With a tanned body and messy light brown hair, he was just another stupid pretty boy that got sponsor gifts from looks alone.

At the current moment, he was playing around with his sword, swinging it around like some kind of amateur and shouting at imaginary enemies. And from the sounds that he was making, he was pretending that he was a knight in shining armor fighting a dragon or something. That shouting and laughing is what drew me to him, and I almost couldn't bear to watch this show. He had to be a non-career that had suddenly turned cocky because of those supplies. And because of that, he was making mistakes that those with common sense should of known.

First off, that shouting was going to draw attention, and it had. It had attracted me to his location. Second of all, a weakling like him with a supply cache was too good of a target for those with any kind of skills behind them. And third, it looked like he was in his own little world, devoid of any kind of attention skills that could alert him to a threat within the real world.

Shaking my head with disgust, I looked to the sky and gave some sisterly advice to my little sister.

"You see that guy down there?" I then pointed to the screaming idiot. "That's not how you should act like in the arena, and I'll show you why."

I then inspected my weapons to see if they were where I wanted them to be, and they were. Confident that this wouldn't be too hard, but not letting myself become overconfident, quietly made my way towards the boy.

I wasn't going to just charge at him even though I could kill him swiftly and easily. No, because even if I do manage to kill him, he could get a lucky swing in and injure me. And if might not be just a shallow cut either, because for all I know, that lucky swing could slice my neck open.

My trainers had told me stories of how competent fighters had lost to those that were incompetent solely because of luck. Most of the class laughed at those that had lost and told everyone that it wasn't going to happen to them, but I listened and learned for those stories, and learned the hard way that sometimes, lady luck was not on your side.

Ducking low and crouching my knees, I made my way towards him, hiding behind walls that weren't completely demolished and piles of concrete and bricks. It was slow going, but slow and steady was the better way. Patience was a virtue, and those with patience were rewarded.

I watched the guy's movements and timed his swings and turns so that when I moved from cover to cover, he wouldn't see me. And soon, I was forty feet away. Thirty feet away. At twenty five feet I had to lay on my stomach because the hiding places were too low for me to go any higher.

I crawled through the crumbled blocks and resisted the urge to say anything or breathe out too heavily as I felt the points and corners of objects dig into my flesh.

Twenty feet. He still hadn't noticed me. Fifteen feet, there was no more cover for me, I had to go now.

I peeked out from my cover, a pile of rotten wood that barely kept me hidden, watched the guy continue his movements. And I waited. I waited for the right opportunity to strike.

He finally turned and had his back to me, and that's when I decided to charge in.

A quickly as I could, I leaped up and sprinted to him, throwing a homemade knife at an exposed part of his back as my crude hatchet was ready to strike him in the side of the neck.

But lady luck was not on my side as my knife missed as he turned to face me. Shit! Well, it was too late, I was too close for him to stop my attack. His eyes went wide as I gave out a war cry and slashed at his head. The hatchet missed, and only then had I discovered that I had swung too hard and ended up losing my footing as I twirled around and ended up having my back exposed to him!

I quickly gave out a back kick to stop him from closing in on me, but I felt something hit me in the butt before I fell to the ground. But just before I hit the ground, I gave out a shoulder roll, and even though it hurt having to roll across the uneven earth, I managed to get out of hit range and not hit my face on anything hard.

"Hey doll," he said jokingly. "I know I attract all kinds of crazy, but you, I think you've taken first place." And that really pissed me off. He wasn't even taking this situation seriously. It was like I was a joke to him. Well, cocky bastard was going to see just what happens when he messes with an Osbourne.

On my feet, I grabbed another shiv and threw it at his left shin. It missed him, but he raised his leg, as I expected. With that happening, I rushed at him and jumped at him feet first. My legs were spread and my waist hit him in his gut, sending him falling to the ground. He gave a shout of surprise as I wrapped my legs around his back, and trapped his arms as well, just before his back made contact with the ground.

As soon as he was on the ground, I smashed the handle of the hatchet into his face. He cried out in pain right as his lip split open and bleed. I hit him in the same place a second time, making him cry out again as his wound widened some more.

I then flipped the hatchet around and swung the bladed part down the center of his face, but he moved his head out of the way. I picked up the hatchet again and swung it at his head once more, but he moved again.

I raised my weapon up once more, but as soon as my arms were raised, he managed to buck his gut up, and it sent me off balance and I fell to the side. Then I heard my opponent give out a mighty cry and he suddenly shot up. He back left the earth and I felt myself being raised up before I felt my back falling to the ground.

I braced myself before my back hit the rough, uneven ground, sending waves of pain through my back as all the air in my lungs escaped. I then felt a rough and pointed object press itself against my throat. I looked down and discovered that it was his elbow cutting off my air supply. "I don't want to hurt you!"

"That makes one of us." I managed to gasp out before I swung my hatchet at his side, only for his other arm to grab my wrist before he twisted it so hard and fast that I couldn't help but release my weapon and half scream half gasp because of the pain.

"Release me!" He demanded. "Now!" I didn't. Instead, I wiggled my head around as I groped around my own body for my last shiv and my body struggled against him. I wasn't going to break my hold on his body so that he could get into a proper mount. I began to lose my sight and it because incredibly hard to breathe, but I managed to find my last homemade knife.

I grabbed it, and even though I couldn't see very well because my vision was fuzzy, I swung it at him, and stabbed him in the back... I think. The guy screamed in agony before he tried to back away from me, I gladly released him after that. His elbow was off of me and I began to take in big, deep breathes as I grabbed my throat that burned with pain. My eyes also burned with newly forming tears.

Wheezing, I rolled to my knees as I let one of my hands wander away from my aching throat and search for my hatchet. It didn't take long for me to feel the hard metal of the rod, but the instant I grabbed it, I felt myself being lifted off the ground. And before I could even react, I felt myself flying through the air before I felt pure agony flood through my entire body as the sound of glass shattering occurred around me. An instant after, I felt the torment of landing on a hard floor.

At that point, I felt pain everywhere on the right side of my body. It felt so bad that it felt as if it were on fire. I didn't want to move, but I knew that I had to if I didn't want that guy to finish me off.

I struggled to get up, and it was slow going, but I managed to get to my knees just as my sight was returning to normal. Every move I made ached my entire body, and I wanted nothing more than just to lay down and recover, but you couldn't recover when you're dead.

I looked up and saw that there was a window that was missing a majority of itself. Broken glass and wooden strips stuck out of the framing like broken teeth. That guy had thrown me through a window! My face felt warm and some kind of sticky substance was running down my face. The same warm feeling was on my sides as well. I didn't need to look to know that my face and the right side of my body had been cut open because I had gone through a window.

I brought my hatchet up in defense as I saw the guy grabbing his lower back, my shiv still buried in his flesh. What horrified me was what I saw next, a golden number on the back of his shirt. I hadn't seen it early because the duffle bag had been covering it. But because the bag had fallen off of him sometime during the battle, I could clearly see it now. It was the number four. A fellow career, just like me. I had tried to kill one of my own!

"Hey!" I shouted to him, even though my throat felt dry and raw. Because of that, my voice sounded rough and slightly scratchy. "I'm sorry!"

He turned to me, and he was neither angry nor happy nor sad. And that confused me.

"Yeah?" He asked. "Was that before or after I threw you through the window?"

"I-" I struggled, not really knowing how to respond. How do you say sorry to someone that you just tried to kill? How do you get together with a fellow career that you could of killed? "I didn't know you were a career. Like me. I- I'm sorry. Look. We should get together, because, you know, careers stick together."

The guy gave a low, dark laugh that almost sounded like he was growling.

"Why? So you can get close to me and try to kill me again? No thanks bitch queen, you should of through of that before-" He stopped before he spat out a thick white object and a trail of blood. "Aw man," he groaned. "My tooth. I can't ask the tooth fairy for money now, that's an adult tooth."

I looked at him as he said that. Why would he say that? Was it really that bad that he couldn't get a single coin for his tooth when he was in the god damn arena? "Anyway," he said, turning his attention back to me, the blood from his split lips running past his chin and down his neck. "Should of thought of that before you tried to kill me."

The career from Four then picked up his duffle bag before walking away and holding his bloody mouth.

"I won't do it again." I pleaded. As injured as I am, I don't know if I could last out there on my own. I could take some time to recover, but I'd be alone and hoping that someone doesn't find me. This guy was strong, he would make a good ally, we could watch each other's backs. "I won't do it again. I promise. We careers stick together, right?"

He turned to me again.

"I don't trust you." He spat. "And you're not worthy of being my ally."

I then felt my chest tighten so hard that it felt as if he had punched me in the chest. I fell to the floor and started to cry as his words, 'you're not worthy', repeated in my head. Soon, I felt myself sinking down until I was laying on glass shards. A fellow career didn't think I was good enough to ally with them.

I began to cry.

 **District Six's Felix di Mauro (14)**

 **11:13AM**

I was at home.

Or at least, as home as I could get in the arena.

At first I was afraid, bewildered, I didn't know where I was, and I wondered why I wasn't at home. I had blacked out while working on my padre's projects. I don't remember anything after that, all I remember is waking up in the arena and wondering what the fuck was going on.

I wandered around the arena trying to figure out what in the hell was going on, but I couldn't figure out anything. I thought that I might of been in the arena, but I didn't think so, because I hadn't gone to the reapings yet. I didn't get picked, that's what I told myself. I told myself that the fucking Capitol hadn't taken me from my home and put me in the Hunger Games without reaping me first. That's what I told myself. I told myself I was just in some god damn dream and told myself to wake the fuck up.

But I didn't wake up, and the more I walked around, looking at this desolate place, the more I thought that I wasn't dreaming. But then the questions came. Where was I really, and where was my family? If it wasn't the Capitol that kidnapped me then where was my family? Did we piss someone off so badly that they decided to kick us out of District Six?

If that were the case, then it was probably the peacekeepers. Those cunts never did like me, and it wouldn't be beyond those shit heads to do something like this. With or without the Capitol's approval, the peacekeepers will probably tell them that my family and I were dead. After all, it would just be another two dead bodies in District Six, nothing to even think about.

It could of been anything, especially that last one, but I just really wanted it all to be some sort of bad dream. But then I heard a cannon fire, and that immediately told me that I was in the arena without an ounce of doubt. Why the Capitol kidnapped me I do not know, but all I knew was that those assholes had dumped me in the arena, and I had to get back to my family. So in short, the only thing that mattered was that I survive by any means necessary.

But when I first heard the cannon fire, I got scared. I panicked. I couldn't think and I freaked the hell out. But when I finally managed to calm down and started to think, I told myself that I wasn't helping myself out by freaking out too much. I calmed myself down and told myself that if I panicked too much, I wouldn't survive. After all, what was the first rule of stealing? To not get caught. And how do you not get caught? By being calm and collected. And that's what I was. I was calm. I was collected.

I heard someone coming up behind me, and though I was startled, I quickly whirled around to face whoever was coming up behind me. I had a pipe wrench with me for defense, and that's what I pulled out from my autoshop coveralls. It was slick with a thin layer of oil on the handle, because even though it had been probably hours since I had last worked, the oil and grease that were on my clothes remained, which is why I had wrapped some thick string around the handle. So that it wouldn't slip as easily.

I was ready to strike down whoever came near me when they stopped in their tracks. It was an older girl with dark skin and curly black hair. And not only that, but she was muscular, but not overly so. She looked like someone that could fight. And to add to that, she had a handheld mace like weapon in her hands. Her clothes were patchy, but kept together really well.

"Easy there," she said gently to me, like I was some sort of scared animal. I wasn't scared, she just surprised me. And yet, this girl was smiling at me like she wanted to be my friend or something. "I'm sorry that I scared you. You must be when we're in a place like this. Anyway, I mean you no harm." I call bullshit on that, this is the arena, nobody means anyone no harm. Even your allies will turn on you once they've exploited you for all you're worth. So not only is this bitch a liar, but a retard as well if she thinks I believe her.

"Fucking sure." I muttered, not lowering my weapon, and glaring at her to not come any closer. If she does I'll do to her like I do to the dogs, harm them until they leave or attack. And if she does attack, I'll crush her like I crush the rats that infest our home.

"I'm sorry," she said gently, still smiling. "What did you say? I couldn't hear you." She took a step closer, and I made a motion that told her that if she took a step closer, I would turn her head into porridge. She did stop, and I was thankful for that. I didn't want to fight her because of how strong she looked. "Hey, its okay to be afraid, after all, kids your age shouldn't be here in the first place." And yet, here we fucking are. "I really won't hurt you." Again, I call bullshit on that. "I have three sisters around your age, and you kind of look like them. Except for the straight hair, and the scabs and scars. You know what, the only thing you all have in common are your colours. Heh."

"No veo por qué eso sería la maldición del dios cuestión." (I don't see how that would god damn matter.) I told her. How would looking like her stupid sisters help in any way? What was this girl playing? If she was playing at all. Was she just some dumb bimbo that thought she could play me?

She continued to look at me before she looked to her weapon and continued to smile as she put it away.

"I'm sorry, I really am. I must of looked scary to you with that in my hands. But really, I don't mean you any harm little one." I felt a little safer, but not completely, this was the arena after all.

All I wanted to do was go out and search for materials that I could use to defend that workplace that I had found. It was almost like an autoshop, and it made me feel home. It even had some tools. Rusted, shitty tools that looked like they could cease to work at a moment's notice, but still tools that I could use. With enough work those tools could of been made into something lovely, but for now, I could use them to make something fucking lovely.

I let my fingers slide against the metal of the pipe wrench in my hands, and it made me feel a little bit better. Made me feel as if my family were with me right now, and they were going to protect me from every single asshole that came to harm me. Starting with this bitch.

"Eat mierda." (shit) I told her, wanting nothing more than for her to go away. I did not feel safe with her around, and her nice girl act was making me nervous.

"I can leave you alone if you like." She said to me. Yes, leave. Now!

But then she walked closer to me, and I walked back, ready to swing my weapon at her. And that stupid smile on her face just scared me. "Or think about this," she said, but I didn't want to think about anything other than her going away. I soon backed into something, and the second I looked back to see that it was a wall, she had closed in on me. And even worse, she was fucking touching me on both shoulders! "Or we could be allies, and you wouldn't have to be scared anymore."

Oh! So that's what you're playing here you mother fucking, bullshitting, BITCH!

I slammed my head forward, smashing my forehead into her mouth, causing her to yell and back off. Try to trick me why don't you? I wasn't going to have another peacekeeper incident happen to me ever again! I then swung my pipe wrench upwards, striking her right in the chin so hard that she fell backwards and screamed as an arc of her warm blood hit my face. Blood leaked out from her now broken teeth, and as she cupped her bleeding mouth with both hands, I took this opportunity to run away. After all, she wouldn't of been this brave if she was alone, so I had to get out of here before her allies came to back her up.

That girl. First she tried to feed me some bullshit lies, and then she fucking touched me! I knew she was bad news from the second I saw her.

I was going to get my supplies from somewhere else in the arena, then I would head back to my shop, and then I would build something that would be more effective than this pipe wrench.

 **District One's Cash Deliora (14)**

 **11:19AM**

Maybe what I had done wasn't the best plan.

As I searched this wasteland for my friend, my head kept on playing my reaction upon realizing that I was in the arena. It was stupid, it was impulsive, and it was glorious. Was it the smartest move to stick my middle finger into the air and tell the Capitol off? No. Especially when you can't see their reactions when you say 'Fuck you! Hey, fuck you too! What the fuck are you looking at? Fuck you guys! Fuck all of you!' But damn did it feel good.

The Capitol people more than likely didn't appreciate my anger towards them for sticking me into the arena, and it probably ruined my chances for sponsors, and that's what I regretted the most. Because when I find Zoey and need supplies in order to survive, the Capitol will remember my words of rage, and will refuse to send us anything.

I sighed in frustration as my mind played a death scenario once again. Zoey, dying of dehydration, her throat becoming dry and cracked. It would become painful for her to swallow her own spit, and then she'd get nauseous. After that, she'd become confused, develop a fever as her heart rate and body temperature go through the roof. And if she doesn't die by then, she'll develop insanity before she finally keels over. All because the Capitol didn't want to save her for the simple fact that I was with her.

Yeah, it felt good in the moment, but now look at what you've done Cash. You've doomed Zoey, so even if you do manage to find her, and you will, you've given her a greater chance of death than if you hadn't done anything at all.

Just like back when we first meet at the training academy, right Zoey? We were different, so we weren't liked very much in the first place. But then because of my actions, I got the trainers to hate us even more, and that affected our training, the way people looked at us some more.

Whatever though, it was our lives we were living, and what other people thought about us shouldn't matter. But in this case, it did, but we didn't need support from the Capitol. Those people changed themselves to look like animals because that's all they are. Animals. People that want to go back to their primal roots because they're still stuck in that evolutionary stage or something. Explains why they're so weird and stupid.

Doing a light jog, I jumped over a low, crumbling wall and saw a building that looked stable and livable. Made of faded red bricks and wood, the roof was still intact and while the walls had several holes of various sizes in them, this building was more than suitable to take shelter in. It would keep the rain off you, serve as a good hiding place, and you could sleep in it without getting too too cold. Sure if it got windy you'd still feel the wind in places, but for the most, if I could find a sleeping bag I'd be set.

And if anything else, this looked like a building Zoey might be attracted to in this crumbling wasteland. But at the same time, others probably would be as well, so I had to be cautious.

Coming up to the building as stealthy as I could, I looked for movement within the building. As I got close I began to listen for sounds as well. I saw nothing and heard nothing. When I got close enough, I peeked inside the building through one of the smaller holes, and inside I saw a typical style house, if that house was, like, fifty years old or something.

The white walls were stained with mold, cobwebs, and peeling paint. Figures.

I continued to inspect the house, and it looked like it had been undisturbed. The table was dusty, the floor was dirty, and even the windows looked like they were fogged with dust, dirt, and grime. It was disgusting, but it looked safe and defendable. And if Zoey was as smart as I knew she was, she wouldn't of left any tracks, so there's a chance that she was in there.

I walked to the door and opened it, and heard the metal hinges grinding against each other. A foul stench hit me as it smelt of decay and pure ass. I covered my nose and mouth with my arm, refusing to breathe with my nose.

"Hello." I called out. "Zoey?" No answer. "It's me, Cash." Still nothing. It was abandoned, just as I thought. Damn, Zoey wasn't here, but I should look in this place to see if it had some proper weapons, these broken metal shivs were pointed but dull, and my homemade sickle was just a window frame board with a long piece of glass stuck on the end. And if I'm lucky, maybe I'll find some food and water, or maybe even some supplies. Yeah, can't face the Hunger Games with weapons alone, and that's why the trainers don't take some of us kids seriously, because idiots think they can survive on weapons alone because they have the cornucopia. Well what happens when shit like this happens?

What did that one trainer say to me that one time? 'How idiotic can you children of One get? All of you are just mindless children with good-looks who will easily die on the first couple of days!' Yeah, I think that's it. Well, I may be good looking if I say so myself, but I wasn't mindless.

Heading deeper into the house, closing the door behind me, I explored the house in search for supplies. There was nothing in the front room, as the fridge and cupboards were bare, with only grime and cobwebs inside.

Sighing, I wandered into the next room, and saw a tall, strong looking guy with messy brown hair. His pants and bright blue button up shirt had streaks of grime on them and his hands were lightly stained with the same colour. I raised my crude sickle as he calmly twirled a long and bent bar in his hands. I recognized the weapon, it was a tire iron. A simple, but much more effective weapon than any of my crude weapons.

"Hey there," he said in a surprisingly polite tone. "I don't really want to fight you, so I'll ask you to lower your weapon and let me be." Well that was the biggest pile of bull I had ever heard. Why would I lower my weapon? So that he could get close to me and bash my head in before I could react properly? How stupid did he think I was?

"How about you put away your weapon and I put away mine?" I asked, making up a plan as I went along. This guy was a threat, and I had to treat him that way. "That way, we can trust each other just a little bit more."

"You first." He said evenly.

"I'm the one that has to worry about a deal gone bad." I replied.

"I'm not the one that broke into someone's sanctuary." He countered.

"It's not yours exactly." I rounded.

"Yours neither." He told me.

"Touche." I agreed.

We both then stared at each other. I tried to read him, but I couldn't. But he was calm. Too calm, and that bugged me. What was he planning? Was he really telling the truth, or was he just playing with me? Probably the latter. "How about on three we both put away our weapons? Hows that?"

"Fine." He agreed. "But on my terms. We both sheath or weapons, then you step to the side and let me pass and get out of this house."

"Agreed." We then began to place our weapons back into their holding areas. "One. Two. Three." I then placed my sickle handle down the back of my belt while he slipped the tire iron through a belt loop of his pants. I then stepped aside, and he nodded, and started to walk to the doorway.

He walked past me, but I didn't trust him. Just as I was facing his side, I grabbed a shiv and was about to swing it at his neck when I saw a golden number stitched into his left shoulder, a number two. He was from District Two, a career like me. And suddenly, I had a new idea. "Hey, District Two," I said to him before he turned to face me. "How about an alliance?" I then put on my best smile. The smile that made people think I was innocent and the one that made girls go crazy.

"Why would I want an alliance with you?" He asked sharply, no longer that calm voice he had before. "If I'm not mistaken, you were going to attempt to stab me just a few seconds ago." What? How did he?

"No." I defended. "I was just preparing myself, just in case." I lie, but a lie I hoped he'd believe. "Anyway, I won't back stab you, after all, careers stick together. We could find the other careers and get them to join us, and we'd be the power pack we are every year. Just think about it, we're separated, vulnerable, and the non-careers will take advantage of that."

"Got a good point," he said coolly. "But what makes you think that the other careers will just up and join us even if we do find them? For all we know, they might not want to join us." He had a point, but I hoped that my next say would be the selling point.

"I know of one other career that will join us if we find her. She's my district partner, but she'll only join with you if I'm there, otherwise you'd probably find yourself with two threats at the same time rather than just me alone."

He appeared to think about it for a second.

"Fine," he answered. "I'll help you find your girl. He then looked at me straight in the eyes, his grey eyes hard as steel. "But if you try to betray me, I'll break your head open and use your skull as a goblet, understand."

"Totally." I replied, wondering if he was going to attack me now anyway. I gripped my shiv tighter, getting ready for an attack. But then he backed away and gestured me to go forward first. He probably didn't trust me, but at the same time, I didn't trust him, but I needed him to trust me enough until I found Zoey. I couldn't save her with my brains on the ground, so I walked ahead of him, and he followed.

"I'm Eris Fontani, what's your name One?"

"Cash Deliora. Pleasure."

 **A/N: Sorry for the late update, and there will probably be more. The reasons are explained in my profile if you all haven't read it yet.**

 **Two fights and an almost fight in one chapter? I surprise even myself. I hope you guys liked it.**

 **My brother and I had a discussion last night about freedom and safety, and I want to know what you guys think. Would you rather want:**

 **A) Total freedom: The freedom to do whatever you want without consequence, but that applies to everyone as well. (So yes, murder, theft, rape, arson, and all that good stuff is allowed.)**

 **B) Total safety: You are safe from everything, but breaking the smallest rule will have you sent to death. (Get caught speeding, drink too much alcohol, litter, get the death sentence.)**


	18. Skeptical Trust

**District Four's Turret Tawell (18)**

 **Day 1 11:21AM**

This wasn't the way it was supposed to go. No way in hell was this what I wanted to happen. In fact, it was possibly the opposite of what I wanted to accomplish.

It was just supposed to be a prank, a harmless prank, but now because of what's happening right now... Damn. Was my family watching? Were my friends watching? Actually me, that was a stupid question to ask, of course they're watching, it's the fucking Hunger Games. It's against the law to not watch it. Watch it in the privacy in your own home, or watch it being broadcasted on the big screens at the district square and other select locations. And even if it wasn't illegal to watch, it was near impossible to not see it, or at the very least not hear about what's happening. And for the family that had their kids reaped, they were the ones that were going to watch the most intensely.

At the very least, the entire district didn't have to see me naked. The Capitol had been kind enough to supply me clothes. My own clothes, but clothes neither the less. And they had cleaned me up so I didn't look like I had been on a murder spree before this.

I sighed heavily and ran a hand through my hair and thought of them and what was actually supposed to happen.

Cleat was supposed to run to my parent and siblings sometime in the morning and tell them with fake tears that he had found me. He would explain that he had lost me sometime at night, and he had been searching for me the entire time. Delfina was supposed to be with him, but for whatever reason, she stayed at home and wouldn't come out for nothing. Her parents were to thank for that.

My family would then follow him to where I laid, and hopefully I wouldn't be breathing too hard so that they'd notice before it was too late. They would see me covered with fish blood and guts that had been out for the entire night, and Cleat would tell them that he had found me that way. He would tell them that I had died.

My family would then maybe break down, and when they turned their back to me, I would rise up and scare them. They'd probably think that I was one of the undead or something before I would explain to them that it was all just some funny prank. My dad would laugh and say how I had fooled him while my mom would give me a lecture like no tomorrow. My sisters would also laugh as well. And if there was time after that, Cleat would find some rebels as well. And after that was done, we'd go to the reapings and it would all be normal.

That was not going to happen anymore. Because I was in the arena, and the expressions that my family would of made from my prank wasn't going to go from sad to glad, but it was going to stay on sad. Even worse was that it was going to be one hundred percent genuine, because I wouldn't be rising from the ground in the end.

This prank, everything that I had done prior to today just made everything worse. I didn't go home after school because I wanted them to worry, and now they were going to worry even more for my survival. They were going to be even more sad and everything when they see me die in this place.

And I could of died. I could of made that a reality more quickly than I wanted.

I didn't want to believe that I was in the arena, and I was bored of just walking around, so I decided to escape the world and pretend that I was a hero saving a princess from a fire breathing dragon. It was stupid, but it was fun while it lasted, but still incredibly stupid. Because while I wasn't paying attention, a career of all tributes, came up behind me and nearly ended me then and there.

My face hurt, my mouth hurt, my back hurt, my everything hurt. I managed to stitch up my lip, but it still throbbed painfully, and I would still get the faint taste of metallic flakes in my mouth. It didn't help that the metal spike in my back couldn't be taken out without me bleeding to death, so even if I gained something to cut metal with, a piece of it would remain inside me.

But that didn't hurt as much as knowing that my family, especially Mirabella, my five year old sister, was witnessing my actions. She idolizes me, because even though I didn't want to volunteer like the other kids, she said that I was the type of person she wanted to be when she grew up. She had said that I was a nice, funny, handsome, and just all around good person.

What does she think of me now? How are my parents or my thirteen year old sister going to explain to her that her big brother had gotten beaten and stabbed by a girl and I had thrown said girl through a window? That wasn't the Turret that she knew.

At least when Blanche volunteers in four years, despite my dad's wishes, Mirabella would understand the games and the world around her. But for now, she's innocent of both the games and why the academy trains people to defend themselves so much. Even if she were a year older she'd understand, because she'd be going to the academy and would be taught the history and such. Her child like mind had not yet processed what she had been watching for the past four years. She was now at that stage where she knew what she was watching to an extent. But no, life just had to throw this curve ball and make this happen.

This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair!

The world's not fair though, and I had to live with that.

Squeezing the canteen in my hand, I wanted to break it with my hands. It was a reminder of why I was here, because the Capitol choose me. They reaped me, and nobody was there to volunteer for me.

I liked the Capitol, I really did, would of liked to live there myself. But seeing this canteen that was send to me by them, and the supplies laying inside that duffle bag in front of me, it enraged me. Because of them, I was here. Because of them, I had a chunk of metal in my back. Because of them, I got the medical supplies to stop myself from dying too quickly. Because of them, I traumatized my youngest sister.

Unpleasant images flashed into my mind. Mirabella yelling at the TV when that girl was hitting me. She yelled; 'Why are you hurting Turret?' And; 'Stop hurting him!' And then I would be the one that was laying on the hurt, and she would shout; 'Why is Turret doing this?' And the worst one of all; 'Turret would never do something like that.' But I did, and she would see it. She wouldn't understand, not completely, and that was the worst part.

Feeling myself shaking with anger at both myself and the Capitol, tears started to come out of my eyes.

I held the canteen tighter and tighter, wanting it to shatter in my hand. But it didn't, and that only pissed me off some more.

Not able to contain my anger, I screamed out in rage and threw my canteen across the piles of rubble.

"Mother fuckers!" I yelled as I kicked the duffle bag. It sailed a few feet before it landed on the ground, supplies spilling out of it. "You god damn," I picked up some bread rolls and threw them away. "Stupid, fucking," I threw a jar of iodine tablets away. "Cock sucking," I threw a fire starter away. "Mother fuckers!" A blanket, a flashlight, a first aid kit, all of those were thrown and they disappeared into the ruined streets.

I screamed out once again with rage, kicking the now empty duffle bag again, before I fell to my knees and continued to cry some more.

This wasn't what I had in mind last night. This wasn't how I wanted my family to feel. This wasn't what I wanted with my life. I did not just want to be another painting inside my house. Another dead relative that future Tawell's would talk about and tell their Hunger Games story.

I continued to cry until I started to think that I didn't have to make my family feel all doom and gloom. Yes, I could make them feel joyful again, just like I had planned last night. It was just a change of plans on how to get there, that's what I told myself as I got to my feet and wiped away my tears.

I was going to go back home, and everything would be right again. But first, I needed to get my supplies. I reached for my belt and felt the sword the Capitol had supplied me. Thank God that was still there and I didn't throw it away in my fit of rage.

Smiling to myself and still feeling the burn in my eyes, I grabbed the duffle bag and ran over to the blanket that wasn't too far away. Scooping that up, I started running towards where I thought the other objects had landed. And soon, I found the fire starter, first aid kit, and the iodine tablets. The jar was cracked, but it still held together thankfully.

I couldn't find the flashlight, so I went towards where I thought the bread rolls had landed.

Rounding a corner of a wall that was falling apart, I spotted the bag of bread rolls. They were in the hands of a short and pale, thin girl with glossy brown-blonde hair and heavy bangs. She looked at the bread rolls like she had found hidden treasure, and because it was on a bench that was split in half at the center, I'm guessing she thought that it was something that the gamemakers had put there.

Now, how do I get her to give me back my bread sticks?

"Hey!" I shouted to her. Her head snapped towards me and the surprise she was feeling was clear on her face. I then pointed to the food in her hands. "That's my bread!" The girl then looked around wildly before she darted off, but she didn't get far, because this was a square with three walls, and the only way out was either to climb over the walls, or to get past me.

She then started to attempt to climb up the wall, and to a degree, she was surprisingly succeeding. Sighing, I jogged up to her as she feebly attempted to use the cracks in the wall to get her footing. She just managed to get up the wall before I grabbed the bread bag. "Yoynk." I said with a smile as I took the food from her. "I believe those are mine."

"But..." She said in a feeble, shaking voice that sounded like she wanted to cry. "I found them."

"Yeah, well," I said as I scratched the back of my head, feeling guilty over ruining this girl's joy. "I threw them and they sort of landed here. Sorry."

I then saw her eyes go wide, and I wondered what could cause her to have that happen now of all times? I looked behind me, and saw nothing there. I turned back to her, and saw that she was looking at my shoulder. She was looking at my number. She was probably scared of me because I was a career. "I'm not going to do anything to you," I told her as kindly as I could. Hopefully she'd believe that. "I just came here to get my bread and be off."

"Really?" She asked, her eyes brightening.

"No," I said sarcastically. "I'm going to kill you because, you know, as a career, I have to be the bad guy, it's my job." I then returned to a normal tone. "Of course I'm going to let you go."

"But why?" She asked.

"Is it so hard that I'm not such a bad person?" I asked, thinking about how the non-careers saw the career. To them, we were just big brutes that killed for pleasure, volunteered for fun. But we were not that way. We had reasons for volunteering. Well, not me personally, but because I'm here, I have a reason to participate. "How about this? We can become allies, watch each other's backs, get to know each other, and you can find out I'm just as human as you." She could be useful, and it could probably show her that not all careers are monsters.

She appeared to think for a bit before she gave me her answer.

"No." She told me. I was disappointed, but not surprised. Why would she trust me, a career, when she was from district... I tried to look at her number, but I couldn't spot it. I should of looked at the number on her back when she was climbing.

"Whatever." I said before I turned away and started to jog away. "Your loss."

 **District Four's Clarity Worthington (16)**

 **11:22AM**

When I heard the sound of someone crying, I was driven to find whoever it was and try to make them feel better. Actually, crying wasn't the right word. Bawling was actually a more proper word for what that person was doing. I wanted to find out what was wrong and if I could help them or not. Because even though I now knew fully well where I was, when I heard those sobs, I thought of my sister, Memory.

As I got closer, I realized that the person who was crying was a girl, and that only made me think of Memory some more. Remembering my sister when she first got back from the arena, she didn't want to be alone, and I had moved back in with her. We shared the same room, and we still did. Memory did not like being alone at any time.

She was scared of the dark, scared of being alone, and I had to do something for her. And then there were the times where she would wake up from one of her disturbed dreams and begin to cry. I'd go over to comfort her and tell her that she was safe and that she was no longer in the arena.

The Hunger Games had seriously messed up her mind, and she had volunteered for it. So even if I managed to survive this death game, what makes me think that I don't leave this game just as messed up as her? What makes me think that I won't end up worse than her?

Nothing. Nothing makes me think that I won't end up like her or worse, because I didn't want to enter the arena, I was forced by the Capitol, kidnapped by the peacekeepers, and entered without a choice.

Well, at least if I do manage to leave Memory and I will be there for each other and we'll have even more money to send to the rebel forces. Maybe, just maybe, if I'm lucky, I can recruit some more rebels towards the cause after I explain to them just what the peacekeepers did to me.

Outrages, riots, the peacekeepers would be sorry they ever kidnapped me.

Navigating around the obstacles and holes in the ground, I came closer to the tiny, near destroyed house that the crying was coming from. The bricks were a faded red colour with some black scorch marks on them while the roof looked like it had been bitten off by some sort of giant animal. The window near the entrance was missing most of it's glass and framing. And what I saw next was the worst part, there was blood on the ground. A trail of crimson red spatter that journeyed away from the house until it disappeared completely.

There had been a fight here, and the person inside the house was injured. They were probably near dead if their opponent had decided to up and leave them. Either that, or their opponent fled because of their own injuries.

Well, whatever was happening, I couldn't just ignore the sobbing. Every time I heard a sob I thought of Memory and how much she needed someone to take care of her. The person inside the house was the same.

I slowly went towards the window so that I wouldn't startle them and make them think that I was the enemy coming to finish them off.

I came to the window, and I didn't even have to look that far to know that this wasn't anything good. The glass was spread across the floor like rocks near the edge of a beach, tightly placed and slowly spread out. The girl was laying on those glass shards with no regard to how painful it must of been. I looked down to take a better look at her, and I saw that she was wearing an academy uniform, black clothes that were slightly tight all around. And on the back was a golden number two. She was a career, just like me, so whatever had happened to her must of been incredibly painful.

Looking past her pale skin and shoulder length brown hair, I could see that some glass shards and some areas of the floor under her were stained with blood.

My heart went out to her, because, if my sun and shadow reading skills were right, it wasn't even noon and this had happened to her. She must of been caught by surprise if someone could damage her this badly. She needed help, and I was going to help her.

"Hey," I said as gently as I could. "Are you okay?" Her crying immediately stopped, and I assumed that meant that she knew I was here. "It's okay," I told her gently, like I was with Memory after another nightmare. "I'm here to help y-" I started, but as she swiftly spinned to her feet, I saw that in her right hand was a bladed weapon of some kind. And she was swinging it right at me.

Taken by surprise, I backed away and the blade sliced into the bottom of the window frame, causing glass to shoot out from it's holdings.

"What makes you think I need your help!" She shouted at me. That's when I managed to see what she looked like on the other side of her body. Unlike the left side of her body, which was the part I had been looking at when she was laying down, her right side was a horrific sight.

There were many, many cuts on the right side of her body. So many that it looked like someone had taken a knife and shallowly sliced and diced at her. There were even some shards still in her. One particular bloody shard I noticed was lodged into the right edge of her eyebrow like some sort of diabolical piercing. And to top it off, most of her face and whatever part of her injured body that wasn't covered with clothes, were covered with blood. She looked like a demon had risen out of Hell, and it scared me. "Huh! You think that I'm just some easy target because I'm injured? Well think again!"

She then attempted to pull her weapon out of the window pane, but her hand was slick with blood, and her hand slipped from the handle. She had pulled so hard that she fell backwards and landed on her butt. I flinched from hearing the crunch of glass.

"Are you-" I said while taking a step forward, only for her to yell at me again.

"You'll stay back if you know what's good for you bitch!" She then got to her feet, and I had to look away as her bloody hand touched glass. "I may be injured but I'm still a career. I'm still dangerous."

"I'm a career as well," I told her before spinning in a full circle so that she could see my number. "See?"

She looked at me with one eye narrowed while her right eye only slightly more narrowed.

"Show me that number again." She demanded, so I did, thinking that I must of spun around too fast for her to see it clearly the first time.

I had my back to her when I felt horrible agony rip through my back. Diagonally from my upper right back to my lower left back, all there was was pain as it felt as if something that bitten deeply into me. I couldn't help but scream before I lost my balance and fell forward. I lowered my right arm in front of my chest and did a combat roll to break my fall, only that seemed to make the pain in my back worse, and I hissed out angrily.

What had happened? Why did I suddenly feel that pain as I was turning? And if only one injury hurt this much, how did Memory manage to deal with what she had to deal with?

"So you are a career," the girl behind me said. "Sorry, you spun around so fast that I thought you were trying to trick me." She... She attacked me because she thought I was lying? "So tell me Four, friend or foe?" I didn't understand what she was trying to say.

"Wh- What?" I asked, breathing heavily from the sudden impact or her weapon.

"Friend," she said heavily. "Or foe. Which are you." Well, I certainly didn't want to be her foe, so if that were the case.

"Friend." I answered readily. "Friend. Friend. Friend."

"Good." She snarled. "Wouldn't want to put down the first nice person I've meet in this place. Especially another career."

I got to my feet, resisting the urge to just lay on the ground until the burning stopped. "Now come on," the girl ordered. "Let's get going. Wasted enough time here." I turned around and saw her hobbling away with her right leg moving less effectively and her right arm gently swaying side to side. Blood from the right side of her gently dripped to the ground. She couldn't walk properly, not while she was like that. I needed to give her first aid.

"Hey," I shouted to her, running towards her. "You can't travel in that condition."

"Don't you go telling me what I can and can't do." She replied bitterly. "I can-" She then tripped over a loose block and was about to fall to the ground before I caught her in my arms.

"Are you-" I started, but she pushed me away before she slowly got up on her own.

"I don't need your help," she growled as she glared at me. "And let me tell you princess," she said as she jabbed me in the chest with her left index finger. "I don't trust you. At all. I only reason your not bleeding more is because you're a career and you didn't try to kill me at first glance." That actually kind of hurt. "And I meet your district partner," she continued. "He did this to me. So why should I trust you to not stab me in the back in five or ten minutes?"

"Because I'm not my district partner." I told her truthfully, because whoever he is, he's an asshole and a traitor to the career pack. I mean, I might not like the Hunger Games like the rest of the careers do, but I wouldn't go out and make them my enemies. So not only is he an asshole and a traitor, he's an idiot as well.

"So you might not be," the girl from Two said before she started to travel again, refusing my help. "But don't think I don't have my eyes on you, Four."

"I have a name," I told her politely, not wanting to be called Four forever. "It's Clarity Worthington. Now, what's yours. Unless you want me to call you Two." I said that last one as a joke, but she didn't laugh or anything.

"Arista Osbourne," she answered. "Now stop talking. You're loud when you talk."

 **District Nine's Harvest "Harv" Miller (17)**

 **11:41AM**

I was supposed to go to the rebel hideout.

It was against my cousin's wishes, but there were times where I had to go against his wishes in order for the greater good to come about. He was good for many things, and I'll fully admit that he was someone that I might turn to for help, but there were just some things that he didn't fully understand. If understood at all.

So walking out of that house and out of the victor village, I started to make my way to the rebel hideout when I was struck in the neck by something. I swatted at the spot thinking it was just a pesky mosquito, but what I actually hit turned out to be something far bigger than a simple bug. And though my confusion, I managed to pull whatever it was and look at it.

It was a syringe of sorts. One with a green feather attached to the end. Next thing I knew, everything went black.

And then I woke up in here. This place with all the destroyed buildings and cracked streets littered with ruble.

I didn't know where I was at first, as it looked nothing like District Nine, because even if District Nine had been brought to it's knees, it still wouldn't of contained this much stone. I was confused, and searching my surroundings, I found nothing that could identify where I was.

I found a tall building that wasn't completely destroyed, and I had ran up nearly four flights of stairs before I reached the top. Or at least, where the building cut off. From the way the walls looked, I would of guess that they had looked taller in a time before. But I didn't bother giving all my attention to the crafting of a building that was, I turned my attention to the horizon. And what I saw was just as confusing as when I had first woken up.

It was the same as when I was at ground level, except I could see the destruction on a massive scale. I looked at the entire thing in awe, because even though there was nothing but a broken city surrounding me, there was still something breath taking about the view. For some reason, even through the destruction, the place still had a sort of beauty with it.

But that only lasted for a couple of seconds before I saw it as nothing but pure death. That beauty disappeared instantly after, and I returned to trying to discover just where in the hell I was.

So scanning the horizon again, I noted that there were some buildings that weren't completely ruined, as nothing seemed to be complete. And all around me seemed to be nothing else. But if I looked carefully, there was a small tint of green at the edge of my sights. A forest maybe?

It was far, and it looked hours away if I walked by foot. And that was the closest sight of green.

Was I in a forgotten city or something?

Going down the stair again and into the city, I wandered around for a while in confusion before I heard the sound of a cannon going off. And that's when it hit me. I was in the arena. I had been taken into the arena without my knowledge.

To be honest, when I found that out, I was only mildly surprised, in a good way. Because of what happened to my family, I had expected the Capitol to come after me sooner or later, but not in this way. I had expected them to kill me like they had my family.

I had wondered why they had spared me when they had killed everyone else because of Monty's defiance, but I hadn't wondered that for years.

So they weren't going to kill me. Not right away anyway. But because they hadn't outright put a bullet in my head, I still had a fighting chance of getting back home and giving the Capitol the biggest middle finger I could.

Winning the Hunger Games instead of dying in the arena, that was certainly something to think about. With the money and influence that I could gain from winning, I could help the rebels even more than I was already. Forget just being a messenger, I could supply them with everything the resistance could ever need. Weapons, ammo, food, water, and most of all, I could maybe hire people to work with the resistance. After all, people will do crazy things for money.

Monty's support was good, but he would only step up so far. With me, I would go all the way. When I win, it could be the very thing the rebels needed to take the next step in their fight against the Capitol.

I smiled, thinking of how this was a good thing instead of a bad thing. The Capitol thought that they had won this round, but they were actually aiding me and the rebels. They might of taken out the information about the new dogs, but if things went the right way, it wouldn't even matter.

I would never of volunteered on my own free will, but when the situation calls for it...

Gripping the hollow steel pole I had in my hand, I thought of what Monty had taught me when I was younger. Anything could be used as a weapon in the arena. And I choose this steel pole instead of a board with nails on it for a couple of simple reasons. The pole was relatively light and could be used as a bludgeoning weapon, and because I was fairly strong from working in the fields of District Nine, I thought it would suit me.

A knife I would of liked better. An axe even more. But with what I had to work with, this wasn't so bad. And unlike a nailed board, it wouldn't shatter after a few solid hits. Wouldn't immediately kill a tribute if I struck them in the head like a couple of nails would, but again, it was more sturdy than a piece of wood.

The wandering around however wasn't doing me any good, and from the places I had searched, places that I thought would contain any kind of supplies, it had failed me. Except for one place, a small rectangular building that had a water facit that worked to an extent. The water came out at an adequate pace, but the quality of the liquid was less than perfect as it looked like brown sludge at first.

I thought that running the tap would clear it up a little, but all it did was pour out more brown gunk. I didn't want to wander away from this place, as it was the only place that seemed to have any kind of running fixtures. Because in addition to the water tap, it had a stove as well. Without electricity it wouldn't work, but if I could somehow get something working, I would be one step ahead of hopefully everyone else in terms of water and cooking.

So I didn't abandon the house. Instead, I searched the place and tried to find the electrical box and water pump. I found the electrical box, but the second I looked inside it, I remembered that I didn't know a thing about this type of thing. So I closed it and let it be, because I did not want to accidentally shut down my only source of water. So I went looking for the water filter instead.

My journey lead me to underneath the house through a trap door that I had nearly missed. Only by blind luck did I trip over it. And when I opened the door, I saw that it was pitch black down there. Luck was not on my side, but I wanted some nice clean water, so I went down the ladder and into the darkness. Only to discover that the little amount of light shone through the open door and allowed me to kind of see the machinery that was near the bottom of the ladder.

More than a little rusted, it still looked like it was in working condition. I opened up the boxed door and saw that it wasn't even switched on. Flicking the switch, the machine roared to life and started to rock back and forth. Not so much that I thought it was going to explode, but enough that I knew that it was working.

Smiling with satisfaction, I closed the lid and went back upstairs to gain my prize.

I closed the trap door and ran for the tap when I heard water running. Concerned, I ran to the source when it suddenly stopped. I then ran into the room where I saw a short girl with a dark brown ponytail bolting away from me and into another room.

"Hey wait-" I started, but she disappeared before I even finished my first word. I sighed and waited for her to come back, after all, there was only one way out, unless she decided to crash out a window, and I wasn't going to chase her in case she thought I was a tribute out to kill her.

I turned to the tap and saw that it was off. Looking in the sink, I saw that some of the brown gunk that had accumulated when I had first turned it on had disappeared. I'm guessing that meant it worked. If that were the case, I'm guessing that that girl had been drinking from it and got scared when I closed the trap door.

Sighing, I was about to take a sip of the hopefully purified water when I heard footsteps coming at me, but from the opposite direction from where that girl disappeared. I turned to face her, and she stepped dead in her tracks as she looked at me with a frightened expression. She looked between me and the doorway several times before I spoke again. "I'm not going to hurt you." To which then she readied her weapon, a board that looked light, but sturdy.

"Try to stop me and things will end badly for you ya royal brat!" She shouted at me with her best tough girl voice. I wasn't one to laugh, but if another tribute had seen and heard her, they might of laughed. She wasn't even five and a half feet tall, was young, slim, and wasn't all that rugged. In short, she looked like a rich girl. But the difference between her and I was that I had been trained by my victor cousin and I had worked in the fields. So even though I wore clean, upper class clothes that weren't falling apart, I was more like the lower class of my district than the rich. "So step back and don't try anything."

"Tough talk from a pretty little thing like you," I told her with a smirk. "Weren't you just running away from me just a few seconds ago?" She bared her teeth at me as she gripped her weapon tighter.

"Shut up!" She shouted. "I may be young but it'd be best not to under estimate me!"

"And I'm not," I told her, trying not to seem too threatening to her. I could see that she was scared, and I couldn't help but think of my younger sister. There was a part of me that wanted to protect people, and she definitely looked like someone that needed protecting. Stupid in the case of the Hunger Games since she'd have to die later, but right now, I was going to give her a choice that was her's to take. "In fact, how would you like to be allies? I could protect you from the big bad world."

"I don't need protecting." She growled, trying to seem intimidating. It was cute.

"Then how about water," I said as I nodded my head to the water tap. "Do you really want to walk away from good clean water? In the arena? You look like you don't have any supplies with you."

She looked like she was deciding what she should do, before she sighed and lowered her weapon.

"Fine." She sighed before she walked up to me. "But I have to let you know one thing first."

"And what's that?" I asked before she slugged me across the face with her fist. And honestly, it hurt a lot. So much so that I fell to the floor. I was caught by surprise, but I cursed myself for not seeing it coming. That, and that it only contributed for part of the reason I was on my knees. Honest to God, my teeth felt as if it came loose. I checked my teeth with my tongue to check to see if any got loose. Thankfully, they were still all intact. Holy fuck that girl was strong.

"That's one punch," she declared. "Think about that if you were thinking of betraying me ten seconds from now. So," she said, squatting down to look at me face to face. "Did you really want to be my ally, or are you regretting your so called genius plan?"

"I really wanted to be your ally," I told her, not even wanting to think of what would happen if I said anything else. "Truth."

"Okay." She said calmly before she stood back up. "Just giving you food for thought."

God, did she really not trust me when I proposed my offer? No, maybe not. But we were allies now, and that would aid us in this god forsaken place.

She then walked over to the sink to drink some more water. I looked at her from behind and saw her district number. A golden number seven. She was from District Seven. No wonder she's so strong.


	19. Supply Run

**District Twelve's Chock Roach (18)**

 **12:08PM**

Leaning against the edge of this wall that was devoid of any bright colours, it reflected the mood I was in. The litter of block chips and stones didn't help the scene either as it looked like a massive, district wide cave in had occurred.

Of course this would happen. Of course this would fucking happen. Damn it Piper. Damn it Ash, you guys just had to jinx it didn't you. Our last year of the reapings, and yet, I was the one that got picked for this quell, whatever it was supposed to be. The three of us were supposed to wake up, go to the reapings, and then survive the reapings before we lived it up for the day.

All that money we had saved up, all that planning we made, all those talks and imaginations we had came up for that plan, it was all for nothing. And that more than made me a little angry and more than a little sad at the same time. The three of us were supposed to blow out our thing that had been years of planning.

But now... I was in the arena, and there wasn't even a cornucopia to speak of. Nothing but a place that looked like a place District Twelve could of been if it were made of concrete instead of the cheap construction materials that the houses and stuff were made out of. That, and if it were bombed all to hell like District Thirteen.

This entire thing wasn't right. First off, they never announced what the quell was. Why did they choose me without calling my name? Why was this so unusual?

Besides waking up in the middle of the arena and not knowing what the heck was going on before proceeding to freak the fuck out, I was lost, I didn't know where anyone was, and most of all, weren't there supposed to be some Capitol pre-game training and stuff like that before we entered the arena? Things that could of at least of gotten us non-careers trained somewhat and a chance to gain sponsors? A chance to survive? This year was looking to be a career victor year again.

But then again, looking around and analyzing the situation, it made me realize that we non-careers might have a better chance at winning than the careers. Because even though there was no cornucopia spilling out supplies for us, there were no supplies for the careers as well, and most years, they relied on the cornucopia for it's bounty of supplies. They weren't used to going hungry, like us in the non-career districts.

And without their weapons, they'd be less effective. I mean, they probably knew how to use improvised weapons as well as us, but without a proper weapon, their ability to kill would be affected, right? That, and they were probably separated from each other as well. Their alliance of six was more than likely less than that. They were weakened, and somewhere, out there, tributes were taking advantage of that. Not fearing the pack of wolves that were known as the careers.

For once, the arena looked like it was going to favor the non-careers more than the careers. An arena where you had to provide for yourself in the worst of situation. Something that the careers weren't used to. But in the non-career districts, we were used to that. There was a saying in District Twelve; We don't bring out the best of a bad situation, the bad situation brings out the best of us.

But what should I do? I mean, there were so many choices I could make. For example, I could go out searching for supplies, or I could lie low and make sure that nobody ever finds me. It'd be just like in the mines, be down there with little to no supplies and just keep on working until your break came. Don't even know what time it is until your break comes up, and you wouldn't even care. Except I could sleep, but I wouldn't want to, because there was a chance that I could be found. But in an area this big, there was a pretty big chance that I wouldn't be found. Just hide under a piece of concrete and blend into the shadows. Easy right?

But what about food? I had no food, no water, I couldn't hide forever. Well actually, I could, but if there wasn't enough action going around, the gamemakers would force tributes to get together, and make them duke it out with each other. And I couldn't hope that I would always be avoided. But if I did decide to hole up, I could always lick the morning condensation off the walls like me and the others do deep in the mines if we find a condensation source and decide to share it.

And heck, there were bugs crawling around here. Looking at a line of black ants marching in a line, if I could somehow find even a bit of real food, I could lure them into a jar or something and then when I get a jar full, turn them into some sort of jam or maybe create a fire and fry them on a piece of metal. Or maybe I could find a bird or something.

Choices, choices.

Now... What would my friends do?

Well both of them would take advantage of the situation in their own way.

Ash would go out in his care free way, running around and looting every building without fear, because he's strong enough to handle fighting someone. Maybe not a career, but he'd at least put up enough of a fight that I think he'd be able to escape from them.

Well, I had already looked through some buildings, and had found jack all except for old fixtures that didn't work and old furniture that could be stripped and used for fire. That is, if I could find something that I could use to create a fire. And while we were supposed to improvise in this arena, I couldn't just bang two rocks together and make a fire, as much as I wanted to. As for rubbing two sticks together, well, I tried, and failed. So Ash's plan was a bust.

And Piper. Pipe would try to find a lone career before bashing their head open with the improvised weapon of her choice. Probably a wooden board or a steel pipe, like the one I was holding, because they were a lot like the pick axes that we used down in the mines. Because she was a fighter that girl, and she wasn't shy about fighting and you would ever see her backing off from a brawl.

I looked at the steel pipe that I held in my hands and sighed with my reflection. Why oh why did it have to be me that got reaped? I know it sounds cruel, but if Ash or Pipe got reaped, they would have a better chance of coming out of this alive than I did on any given day. They were fighters through and through and good ones at that.

Oh well, fighting abilities doesn't always solve all the arena's problems. That much was shown in previous victors. Some weren't the strongest, nor the smartest, not even the best strategist with the best plan, or even the luckiest. Somehow, there was hope for every tribute. Yeah, even me, a kid from District Twelve, the loser district of Panem. And though we didn't have a victor that was alive to tell us anything, our time for a victor was upon us. Maybe.

Now instead of frowning to myself, I smiled to my reflection, telling myself that there was hope for me. Because even in this shitty place known as the arena, I was a roach back in District Twelve. A chock roach.

I rolled my eyes and chuckled at that, because I knew that if I said that out loud, people back in Twelve would groan, especially my friends and family as they had heard that so many times. Well, you had to be tough to survive in District Twelve, or even Panem alone, and weren't roaches tough? And even if you didn't think so, you couldn't deny that they were survivors, just like us.

And just like back in District Twelve, I was going to show that I was a survivor here just as well.

And my senses were picking up something. Just like in the mines when there was going to be a cave in or some kind of dangerous substance that was in there, I was usually the first to sense it, or at the very least, was the first one to hear the canary start to cry out in fright. And I had managed to warn people so often since I had started my mining job that people often didn't question my judgement, and I didn't question my instincts.

Even out in the streets of District Twelve there was danger, and my senses were more often than not, right. So without even thinking, I spun my heels around to see a person charging at me. They were holding a chipped brick in their hand, and from the looks of it, they were going to use it to smash my head open.

I wasn't going to have any of that, and I moved out of their way, stepping to the side as they swung their weapon at me. Their momentum caused them to over step and swing at an empty space they did not expect to hit. They tripped over their own movement and slammed face first into the uneven ground. I couldn't help but sympathetically give out a little groan, even if they were that way because they had tried to hit me.

I took a moment to see the golden eight stitched on their back. They wore nice clothes that were clean, unlike the dirty, coal dusted coveralls I wore, and had a head of curly blonde hair. Probably just some rich kid that wasn't used to fighting and was only attacking me because he was scared.

"You okay there dude?" I asked, taking a step back, knowing that a retaliation could happen at any moment.

"Shut the fuck up!" He shouted angrily before he turned his entire body and threw a small chunk of broken concrete at me. I easily avoided it as it was a kind of weak throw, and as the District Eight guy got to his feet, I raised my hands up in a surrendering kind of way.

"Calm down," I told him calmly. "I don't want to fight you." I really didn't, because fighting was not my thing. My friends might be fighters, but I was not. They got involved in fights, I was the one usually breaking up the fights. That was funny, because out of the three of us, I was physically the strongest.

"Great," he said with a wicked smile that I was honestly kind of scared of. "All the more easier to kill you." He then threw another chunk of concrete, and I dodged that, only to get hit in the head with a solid object. My vision fuzzed for a moment before I was hit with another had object in the same spot. I then felt myself being shoved forward, and I lost my footing and landed with my back on the ground. The uneven surface caused waves of pain to shoot through my back and spine.

I felt him get on top of my with a mount. I knew what was going to happen, and I raised my arms up in defense to keep him from hurting my face too much, letting my arms absorb most of the impact. "This is why your kind shouldn't even exist," he mocked as he punched at my defenses. "You're weak and pathetic. You don't even want to fight back because you know you can't win against a superior being like myself." Arrogant much this guy was.

I admit that I didn't want to fight back, but this guy thinking it was because he was a superior being was all kinds of wrong. "You belong in the dirt, which is why your skin is that colour. So I'll do as God intended, use you as soil for those that deserve to eat. I mean, if you're even good enough for that."

What the fuck's wrong with this guy? Is he really saying what I think he's saying? Or did that blow to the head affect my hearing? That was not right, not right at all. "Come on you pussy, fight back." He challenged as his fists continued to hit my arms, trying to break through and get to my face. "Some on pussy pussy pussy," he taunted. "Here faggot faggot fa-" I then bashed both my arms into his face before shoved him forwards with duel palm strikes to the chest, and finally, finished it off with a kick to his chest, effectively getting him off me as he screamed out a single word. "Fuck!"

I got to my feet and grabbed my steel pole before I faced him once again.

"Last chance you overly arrogant bitch," I spat. "I don't want to fight you, so just leave."

"How about," he said before he threw a handful of fine particles at my face. I turned to avoid the incoming projectiles, but some of it must of still of gotten into my eyes, because it felt as if burning coals had gotten into my eye lids. I couldn't help but yell as I rubbed my eyes furiously. If I dared open them, the burning only got worse. "Fuck you!"

I then felt him grab my weapon, and even though my eyes were in agony, I had been involved in enough conflicts to know that if I let go of that pipe, I'd be in even more trouble, because neither Ash nor Piper were here to save me if things went too far. And I did not want to die.

With only my right hand on my weapon, I gripped the rod as tightly as I could, and I was more than strong enough to hold onto the pole. The District Eight guy tugged and tugged, but he couldn't get my grip to slip. I continued to rub my eyes a little more before I felt him pull the pole with a great yank, that's when I jabbed the weapon forward, and felt it strike bone. The guy shrieked in pain before he released my weapon, allowing me to rub my eyes all the more effectively.

I felt pieces of chipped rock roll out of my eye lids, and when I opened my eyes, they burned and my vision was blurred by tears, but they didn't burn with agony when they were open anymore. "You'll pay for that you god damn dip shit!"

The blonde haired boy was charging at me once again, and his arm was swinging wide, allowing me to easily duck and weave under the incoming swing and maneuver behind him, and grab his head from behind, and use his momentum to toss him into a nearby wall.

His body slammed into the wall before I grabbed the back of his hair, pulled back, and smashed his face into the wall with a sickening crunch, telling me that his nose was broken, or at least dislocated. His screaming was also a good indicator as well. I then dragged his face across the wall, his nose letting out wet cracks as it left a crimson trail behind before I threw him to the ground.

He cupped his nose with both hands as he turned to face me while crying out in agony. He was crying hard, but I didn't know if that was to catch me off guard or not, and I had fallen to that trick by Piper too many times, so I kicked him in the balls as hard as I could. He let out a child like shriek before he grabbed his crouch with his right hand.

"I told you," I huffed before I stomped on his crouch, earning me another shriek. "I don't want to fight you."

"Fuck you," he cried out in a pathetic tone. "You backwards, fuck wit. You're just a retarded coal miner, not killing you would be a crime to humanity."

I held my steel pole in my hands, ready to strike him down as he wanted to strike me down. But as much as I should do it, as much as my friends and family were probably telling me to do it, I couldn't bring myself to bring down the pole to kill this guy. This guy was someone what would try to kill someone again once he recovers, a guy that would cause damage if I left him to live. And yet, I couldn't get myself to kill him.

I should do it, it was the right thing to do. But I didn't. I was not a killer.

Furious at myself for being myself, I snarled to myself before I kicked the other boy in the ribs. "Don't follow me." I warned before I turned tail and ran.

 **District Three's Huxley Moon (18)**

 **12:12PM**

At first I was confused.

I woke up in a place that I had never seen before, and after a minute or so of looking at my surroundings, it came into place that I wasn't in any part of District Three. So I wondered where I could possibly be. And then it hit me, I was in the arena, there was no other place that I could of been, not when it was the day of the reapings.

That was when I turned angry. I mean, why the fuck was I here of all places? Why had the Capitol taken me without even reaping my name from that bowl? And why was I in the arena and not in the Capitol? Since when did the Capitol draw a name and threw them directly in the arena? And when had I been taken?

I had given those rebels the explosives that they had wanted, and when I was walking home, I couldn't even remember returning home. They had gotten me some time during that period. So they hadn't even drew my name when they decided to kidnap me. Did they just go around taking random people off the street, or did they know who they wanted to kidnap in advance? Either way, I was angry at them for choosing me. Why out of all the people in District Three did they have to choose me? Maybe those fuckers had seen me dealing those explosives to the rebels and decided to take me. If that were the case, then it's the rebels fault for me getting tossed in here, because those fuckers wanted those weapons last night and said that any other night would of been less successful.

Fuckers. Both those rebels and the Capitol. Did the rebels have some sort of deal going on with those in power? Let us go and we'll show you some people that have been supplying us? Had they played with me? Thrown me to the wolves just so that they could live a little longer? Damn them.

Well, even if it were just the Capitol playing with me, I knew that I wanted to go home, and that the biggest fuck you to them would be to win. And if it turns out that the rebels had made a deal with the Capitol, well, let's just say I know how to turn their explosives on them as soon as I'm out of range.

So I went through the arena, looking for anything that could aid me in my quest to return home, and there were some good things around. Pipes and broken pieces of stone and brick that I could use as an explosive, but nothing beyond that. I couldn't find a detonator or something to use as a trigger, or anything that could make a good conductor. There were missing components to my devices, and that frustrated me. What good was a capsule and ammo if there wasn't anything to make it explode?

I had tried to make due without my signature weapon, but try as I might, it hadn't gone too well.

Earlier I had nearly ran into that girl from District Eleven and before I could set up some kind of trap for her, she had moved on. She hadn't noticed me, and I was at least thankful for that. She wasn't the strongest looking person alive, but she was still from District Eleven, and looked pretty strong at that, so it was better off that I didn't do anything than have a rushed plan and fail.

And then there was that District Five girl that I had tried to crush with a large piece of concrete. Rolling it down from the side of a building when she was under me, the damn thing had missed, and when it shattered beside her, it sent some shrapnel in her direction, but it didn't kill her. She threatened to kill me if she managed to catch up with me, but I managed to escape from her.

But the worst thing that happened to me in my time in the arena was being chased by that District Eight guy, who kept on yelling out racial slurs at me as he chased me. I didn't take any unnecessary risks with that guy. If he was confident enough to attack me, then he was probably stronger, or at least a better fighter, than he looked. I managed to lose him, and that was that.

I was going nowhere, and without some proper components, I was going to continue going no where. But then I managed to find a flashlight that had been laying on the ground, and because of the spring and battery inside of it, along with some of the metal plates within it, I was able to make something out of it.

It was weak, but with the hard plastic case of the flashlight and the button, I was able to make a homemade taser. I was hoping to find something that could produce a bigger charge, but it would do for now.

And then I found this wonderful place. It was small, like maybe a little bigger than a single room and nearly as wide. On one side were tools of all kinds hanging above a tall, tri-layered tool box that was more like a tool bench. Within it were items needed to construct things and several smaller tools and items of I don't know what. On the other side were large plastic jugs, metal drums, and a stack of pallets. The walls were concrete with some holes within them. Few were big enough for a person to get through comfortably.

it was a place that looked like it was a paradise for someone that was either mechanically savvy or someone with the know how to create something destructible. Either that, or they needed a weapon. And right now, I was two of them, someone that needed a weapon, and someone that knew how to create something with the right tools.

It had occupied by someone else, as they had set up some simple, yet clever traps to discourage people from wandering into their place, such as wire traps that would drop things on you, or if you steps on a piece of wood and managed to move a piece of metal, something would come over and spear you. But I managed to get around them without setting them off. It was hard and slow work, but well worth the effort when I began my work.

I wanted to block the door with something, but the tool stand was too heavy to move, there was no lock, and no way to make the handle stick. The drums were empty and so were the jugs. The pallets would barely stop them as there were only three, so I didn't bother, hoping to make a deal with whoever occurred this place. And once their guard was down, I'd dispose of them before they became trouble.

Taking apart my taser and readjusting it and replacing some of the parts with new ones, I managed to create a better one compared to my old one. With better conductors and extra wires inside it, it produced more juice and would be able to hurt someone more than that pitiful old one would. It was still crude and less effective than the real one, but it would work in a pinch.

I didn't know how long I had, but I thought that I could use the time to create an explosive or two. After all, I had the tools, and from the looks of it, I had some of the ingredients, so I could maybe whip something up with the chemicals found at the bottom of the tool bench at my disposal. After all, they were in containers that were a pain in the ass to drag out, especially with those wire traps around the entrances and exits. So I started to work on a simple explosive.

I was just about done with I heard a click and a creaky, heavy metal door groaning. Surprised, I turned around and saw a brown person peppered in scars and scabs looking at me from only twenty feet away. They were equally surprised before they glared at me and started shouting at me as they pointed their rather large weapon at me. It looked like one of the tools that could of been found in this room.

"Hey!" A female voice shouted out. And then she talked with words I did not understand, but from what I could gather, she was pissed that I had entered her territory. Her oil streaked coverall looked like it belonged in a place like this. Though, the no shoe thing for her was kind of dangerous with the various chemicals laying around.

I didn't want to get into a fight with her head on, but if I needed to, I had my taser with me, and that would give me an advantage over some skinny bitch with a tool in her hands.

"Hey," I said with her calmly with a smile. "Is this your place? I didn't know."

"How the fuck could you not know you," and then she started to speak in more words I couldn't understand. I had to keep calm and make her know that I was not a threat to her. Yet.

"How about you calm down there," I suggested nicely. "I only used some of your tools s-"

"Bitch, get out of my-" Something and something. What was with this girl? Did she not know how to talk properly?

"How about-" I started, but she rushed at me before I could finish. She gave out a battle cry before she swung her weapon at me. And before I could even think, I stumbled to the side before I slipped to the floor, crashing on my side as I heard metal crunching above me. I knew that she had crushed my unfinished explosive, and inside, a part of my was crying. Another part of me was burning with rage. I had worked hard on that device you cunt!

Pressing the flashlight button, a spectacle of blue lightning ignited at the end of the rod before I jammed it into the back of her knee. There was a crackling sound before the girl screamed out in pain just as she fell onto the floor.

I pulled the taser away from her before I crawled towards her so that I could electrocute her in the chest and maybe, just maybe, shock her heart enough that it'd stop beating. But as I turned towards her, she lashed out at me and kicked me in the face.

Pain washed over my face as my nose felt as if it had broke, and I couldn't help but let out a cry of pain before I grabbed at my face.

The scared girl then swung her giant wrench at me, and before I could even react, it hit me square in the gut, causing me to lose my breath and groan as I grabbed my stomach and curl up like a new born. That thing was heavier than I thought.

I then saw the girl get to her feet, and I couldn't even move I was in so much pain. I saw her reel back her right leg, and the best I could do was move my arm out in front of my face to block it, and I felt her leg connect with my arm, shooting pain through my limb.

I retaliated by trying to shock her with my taser again, but she moved her leg out of the way and jumping back. It gave me time to get to my knees, but I then felt immense pain of which I had never felt before strike my mouth. I felt myself fall flat on my face, sending in extra spikes of fire through my mouth as an intense ringing sounded in my ears. I coughed from the impact, and when I raised my head up slightly, I felt myself drooling heavily. But it didn't feel like just any drool, it felt like warm and thick while tasting sick and metallic.

I looked down, and in shock, through distorted vision, I saw that it wasn't just thick lines of blood coming out of my mouth, there were fragments of ivory mixed in with the crimson on the floor.

I didn't get a chance to think about what the hell those things were when I felt my face get smashed again. It send torrents upon torrents of pain crashing through my head as it rattled, and I didn't want to feel that again, so when I was forced onto my back, I continued to roll away from my opponent as far as possible before I scrambled to my feet and knew that it was time to high tail it out of here. But I couldn't escape with her chasing me. And with those traps of her's, there was no way that I could escape without her hitting me in the back. I had to disable her somehow. And there was no time to think as she was again, rushing towards me with her giant wrench weapon in a ready to strike position.

So out of pure fright, I did the first thing that came to me, I quickly moved out of her way and nearly fell again. The girl swung her weapon at me, and because of the heavy weapon, she staggered forwards, right into one of the wire traps she had set up in one of the wall gaps.

She set off one of the traps, and a saw blade fell from the top of the building. She knew what she had walked to, because she had set the damn thing up. She swiftly moved out the way and the spiked wheel hit the concrete with a loud clang. I took the chance to tackle her with all my strength and weight, causing the scrawny girl to slam into the wall with a thunk.

I don't know whether it was because I was in so much pain or because she was strong, but she immediately shoved off the wall, and sent me back a couple of feet before she turned to face me with her weapon raised.

Not letting her damage me anymore, I slammed the lethal end of the taser onto the side of her skull and pressed the button, zapping her with the power of electricity. It caused her to scream as she clenched her teeth tightly. Her whole body became somewhat stiff and her body jiggled a little as she fell backwards into the wall, but I continued to electrify her until she slide down the wall and out of my reach.

Without checking to see if I had fried her brain enough to kill her, and not really caring, I turned tail and ran away from that girl. If she had survived that blast, she was going to be seriously more enraged, and that could spell the end for me, so I wasn't taking any chances.

I maneuvered through the wire traps and ran, frustrated that I couldn't build a bomb and that I was in so much pain that I could barely run. Everything was waving in and out and the world became grey and distorted for a second before it returned back to normal.

I needed to find a place to hide and heal. Fast. Who knows what that bitch could of done to me.

 **District Three's Eve Datter (17)**

 **12:15PM**

It still hurt.

Not just the pain of getting hit by a huge and heavy wrench, but also because that girl didn't trust me. She was scared, and yet she attacked me. Can't really blame her too much because she's so young and didn't expect to be in the arena. After all, I had never expected myself to get thrown in here either.

I had been scared, but that was because I didn't know where I was. A bunch of buildings that were destroyed, I thought that District Three had been bombed by a desperate Capitol attempting to kill each and every rebel in the district. Because the Capitol is like that, they'll do anything to protect themselves and make the best for themselves without even considering us in the equation. 'So what if thousands of district citizens lose their lives, those rebels are an endangerment to us.' That's probably what they'd think. After all, if they really cared about us as much as they said they did, we wouldn't have as many starving people, as many deaths, our shelters would be better, and the peacekeepers wouldn't be so brutal.

But as such, the Capitol didn't know about our struggle, and so, they didn't care. I bet they wouldn't last an hour without having to run back to the president and asking to be returned to their precious Capitol and go back to their life of comfort.

I then started to wonder why they had chosen me. What had I done recently? I was fixing our roof when that one guy, that one in all black that I barely saw before I felt all dizzy and closed my eyes. Did that guy who was telling me to stop call the peacekeepers and have them drag me to some place that was abandoned and left me to die? Or were they just punishing me by putting me into a remote place of District Three and I'd have to find my way home?

I then thought of my sisters, who I needed to protect. I was the parent to them, because even though we were sisters I was the closest thing to a parent they had known. They weren't old enough to know mom and dad, I barely even remembered them.

Being a caregiver to those girls and the things I was willing to do for them, was that something that parents felt? I could of asked a real parent, but I never did, I couldn't be distracted by things like that back in District Three. Not in the area we lived in.

Leaving anything out and in the open was an invitation for someone to take it. Which is why when Riesa, the eldest one aside from me, goes and sells things out in the district, I make sure that I'm either with her, or one of her other sisters are with her. Because even though she's the most responsible and knows the most, I think that it's better to have two people watching over the merchandise than just one. That, and they were safer in larger numbers.

And why I keep on scolding Ellie, who's only a year younger than Riesa at fourteen, on why she keeps on getting things taken from her. She's not the brightest bulb in the family, and she keeps on complaining about things, such as why she can't even leave something outside to dry in the summer. And that's why she keeps on getting things taken from her. I have to keep on reminding her, and it seems as if I keep on nagging her, but I just want her to not have her things taken from her. She deserves to keep those things, not hand them to some other kid that crosses the street and sees her things as easy pickings.

And then there's Mona, the prettiest of the group. At only twelve years old, Mona helps Riesa with selling things because she attracts the most people. I don't like that she puts herself out there, but what can I do? I tell her to be careful, but that's the best I can do.

And as I spun the two rats on their skewers, long and thin piece of metal, over an open flame, I thought of how the four of us would always look forward to dinner. That was the meal we had together on any given day. Because when you have to survive, you can't by sitting in the house all day. Or at least, I couldn't stay inside the house all day.

Because I was able to work in a factory, we were able to afford simple foods such as oatmeal or bread. Eggs and such were specialty items and we rarely bought things like that.

I was looking at these two rats that were being cooked, their fur sending up wisps of smoke as it burned, attacking my nose with the unpleasant scent. I couldn't find any other sources of food, and while I wasn't too hungry now, I knew that having something now would help in the long run. Who knows when I'd be able to catch anything larger than a bug or a worm. I'd have to collect a hundred termites, who were actively crawling around on the rotten wood laying about, if I wanted to get started on getting a meal ready.

I sighed as I rubbed my mouth, thanking God that while my jaw clicked every time I moved it too much and it burned with agony like ants were biting inside of it, that it wasn't worse than it was. It could of been broken, instead, it had only been dislocated, and when I decided to push it back into place, a loud wet crack rang out before a blinding pain occurred. Placing it back into it's proper spot had hurt even worse than it did dislocating.

Tears had ran down my face and I screamed in pure torment. And even this long after, it still felt as if it had just been broken. I had injuries before, but never like this. I suspected that it would hurt for days. I didn't like this. I didn't like this at all.

Taken away from my sisters, getting attacked my a little girl, and now I was resorting to eating rats.

Well, at least this wasn't my life in general. I had heard that kids in Districts Ten, Eleven, and Twelve had harsh lives, and from what I've heard of them, they probably ate rats and the such to stay alive everyday. I'm sure glad that we didn't have to go through that horror day after day.

"Hey!" A voice called out. It came from one of the building entrances.

The place itself wasn't spectacular or anything. It was old, it was cracking, it was large with the only windows being made by fallen blocks out of the walls, but it was enough to light the place up with sunshine.

I looked towards the voice and saw that it was a boy with skinny pale kid with shoulder length black hair wearing a long sleeve, faded green, button up shirt. He was short and looked to be around fifteen or so with his hands behind his back like a polite beggar. "What do you want for the rats?"

Looking back at the rats, I knew that they were the only things I had to eat right now, so if he wanted to trade, I had to know what he wanted and see if it were a good trade.

"What do you have?" I asked, standing between him and the rats so that he would think that I wouldn't just let him take it. I also tried to show that I wasn't hurt in anyway. Weakness was one of the things where if you showed it in Raysville, people would take advantage of it. They wouldn't show fear, so if you did, you practically already lost the fight. And this was like Raysville, but with legal murders.

"I don't have anything with me," he explained. "But how about an alliance? We could take care of each other, and I have some skills that I could bring to the fight."

He didn't look like much. He didn't look strong, he was young, but old enough to look after himself. He didn't have any supplies on him, so I wondered what skills he could have.

"What kind of skills?" I asked.

"I can fight." He told me. I shook my head. I didn't need a fighter, I needed someone that could help me survive. Like gather food, or know how to purify water or something. I could fight already, and strength alone wouldn't help if we couldn't stay strong because we were starving. So I was going to decline it as politely as I could.

"Sorry," I said. "I don't need another fighter, sorry. And I need these rats."

It was then that his face turned sour.

"Fine. If you won't give me them," he then pulled his arms out in front of him, to show them in fists. But what I noticed most was that around his right knuckles were screws attached to some kind of leather strap wrapped around his hand. "I'll just have to take them."

That was when I felt my face turn from pleasant, to foul, and my mood wasn't far behind. This kid, whatever district he was from, were just like the punks from Raysville. People that thought they could take what they wanted, when they wanted if they thought they could get away with it. Well I wasn't going to have it.

Grabbing my weapon, a short piece of rebar with some concrete attached to the end, I showed him what I was holding.

"You'll have to get past me and this first." I threatened, hoping that he'd back off. If he didn't, well, I did want to get back home.

"Fine by me." He snarled before he started to run towards me as he started to scream out.

I held my weapon in a ready position as he ran towards me. When he got close, I swung my weapon at his head, but he ducked under my weapon and I saw the screws coming towards my face at the edge of my vision. Not wanting to get stabbed in the head, I pulled my head back as quickly as I could, only to feet something sharp plunge into my left cheek and start ripping across my face.

Screaming with burning agony, reaching for my face as I stumbled away from the boy. I felt warm, sticky liquid running down my face and when my hand touched where it hurt, I felt the inside of my flesh. He had sliced open my left cheek in three areas and carved three deep lines from that cheek to the center of my forehead, just missing my eye. I could only pull away my hand and look at the crimson blood that was mine in shock.

He was trying to kill me! I knew I should of seen it coming since I was in the arena, ever since I saw those numbers my back and on the back of that District Six girl, but I hadn't wanted to believe it. But now... Now the reality was crashing down on me painfully. There was no more denying that I was really in the arena, and that there were murderers out that.

This was nothing like Raysville.

I felt something hit me in the butt before I felt myself falling forwards, face first to the ground. I stuck my arms out to protect my already wounded face, but the impact still sent needles through my face and arms. I had to cry out again, but was cut short when I felt pain erupt in the back of my skull, making my face slam into the ground once again.

The agony happened a second time, a third, I didn't want it to happen a fourth time, so with all my strength and willpower, I rolled to my back, and with my momentum, swung my rebar club at the boy. I didn't aim, I didn't care where I hit him as long as I hit him.

And with great effort, I managed to slam the concrete part of my club into his his left ribs. He howled with agony as he clutched his injured side and took a couple of steps back. And with him being distracted by his own pain, I charged at him and rammed past him with my right shoulder and elbow, sending him off his feet and having his back crash onto the ground with a thud and a yelp.

Turning around, I raised my rebar above my head and slammed it down on his gut, causing him to choke out a scream before he wrapped his arms around my weapon and rolled towards it, trying to make me let go as he pressed his belly down on it. But I was stronger than that, and I yanked it back towards me.

The boy rolled towards me with my weapon speeding him up, and that's when I felt searing spikes go through my right ankle before it got ripped out. I felt the groves of the screws rub against my bones when they were coming out, making me yell and hobble on my one good foot as warm sticky stuff ran down my foot. "Bitch!" He half shouted half choked out, causing me to see through the sheer agony of my head and ankle. "You god damn fucking bi-Ahhhhh!" He said as I slammed my bar into his shoulder.

"Watch your mouth!" I told him, thinking of my sisters watching this horrible, horrible event. I didn't allow them to watch when I was around, but now that I was gone, they were probably watching this. Either from curiosity or because I was on it, I did not know. I wished that I could spare them from this sight, but I couldn't. So the best I could hope for was that not too many bad things were broadcasted, and one of those avoidable things was swearing.

Swearing in front of a little girl, who does that?

"What the fuck?" He said confused, making me angrier. "Why should I-" He was cut off by another shoulder smash and a scream.

"Little kids are watching!" I shouted at him before I continued to slam the weapon at him. He tried to block it with his arms, but it was useless. My attacks would either hit his arms, which he would try to avoid as well, or hit him around the neck and shoulder area. "Didn't anyone teach you manners!"

And then with one powerful blow, there was a wet and sickening crunch and scream of pure torment that told me that his left collarbone was destroyed.

"You're fucked up!" He shouted before I watched hit me in the stomach with his studded fist, and the shock that followed didn't come from the pain, but from the thought of something else. And when he ripped the screws out of my gut and saw the blood spurt out and coat his knuckles, I freaked out.

Screaming at him with pure fury, he backed off a couple of steps before he threw out a punch, I beat him to it by slamming my own fist into his face. As he was dazed, I pulled back my right arm and striked him straight in the face with all my might. I heard a satisfying wet crack and he fell to the ground once more. I nearly lost my balance, but was able to stay upright before grabbing my bar with both my hands, I jabbed it right into his chest, causing him to gasp out in pain.

His nose, which was now twisted at an odd angle, was gushing out blood, and he looked like he couldn't decide wither to hold his nose, chest, collarbone, or whatever else of his was injured. I took this opportunity to hobble a couple of steps so that I was close enough to hit him across the top of the head with the concrete part of my club, causing a piece of flesh to tear off and allow him to bleed from the right side of his forehead. He yelled before he rolled away and got to his feet as quickly as he could, which was slower than when he had first started.

I charged at me again, hopping on one leg, I swung the bar at him again, but I missed, and it sent me spinning around on my only leg. With my back towards him, I was afraid of what would happen. My fears were confirmed when I felt a stabbing pain in the middle of my back, followed by the screws being pulled out. I quickly spun back around and was faced with a face full of spikes.

I arced my back away and the spikes missed my face, but it the top spike managed to still pierce my nostrils and make them stretch painfully until they tore themselves open from the front and broke through the bone in the lower center. I screamed before I felt a blow to the gut, sending waves of pain through me, and I saw that he was going to backhand me with that spiked glove of his. I wasn't going to allow that.

In the middle of his swing, I grabbed his wrist and twisted it as hard as I could. The boy yelled and stumbled forward, and with him exposed, I decided to finish him off. I turned his right hand towards the side of his neck and forced his spiked knuckles towards him. He struggled, but I was stronger, and soon, the tips of the screws touched his neck. He tried to force his neck away from the strews, but he couldn't move it any further away. And with that, the screws started to slowly bury themselves into his flesh and draw blood.

He screamed as the screws drove themselves deeper and deeper into his neck until the leather bounding around his knuckles were touching the film of blood pouring out of his neck. Then with a sharp yank, I withdrew the screws at an angle, turning the screw holes into slash marks as the sound of skin ripping sounded out.

The boy wailed in complete agony before I turned him around and slammed his knuckled screws into his throat before shoving him away.

The boy then began to choke on his own blood and began to make a sound not unlike a high pitched slurping sound. The boy stumbled back, but he didn't dare try to remove the back of his hand from his neck. A stream of blood started to spill from his mouth before he turned and awkwardly ran away from me.

Me. I finally crashed onto my side and screamed in the agony that I was feeling.

 **A/N: Still recovering from some kind of sickness, so I hope that this chapter is up to snuff.**

 **Blog and pictures of tributes are now up: pricewepayhg / blogspot . ca**

 **My brother and I had many interesting conversations this month, but one that we had recently while playing The Division got us saying something like this:**

 **Me: Don't you wish you could be a protagonist in a book or something? They have such amazing adventures and they do things that you want to do.**

 **Brother: No.**

 **Me: Me neither.**

 **Brother: Yeah man, think of all the things they have to deal with.**

 **Me: Heh heh, The Division. Would you like to live in the world of The Division? You get to shoot people, get to have an interesting experience that most people only dream of doing.**

 **Brother: No.**

 **Me: Me neither. How long do you think you'd last in The Division?**

 **Brother: Hopefully a long time, because I'd be hiding most of the time. And when I go out for supplies, if I hear a gunshot, you can be sure I'm running in the opposite direction. How about you?**

 **Me: I don't think very long, because I'd probably get killed by a random looter or get burned by a cleaner.**

 **Brother: And that's assuming we survived the initial virus outbreak that killed 98 percent of the population.**

 **Me: Which we probably wouldn't.**

 **Both of us: *Laugh***

 **Me: Being a protagonist of any kind of fiction would suck, despite all the awesome things they do.**


	20. Different Kinds of Help

**District Six's Tracker Hornsby (15)**

 **12:27PM**

I wasn't going to lie, this was agony beyond anything that I had ever felt before.

The times that I got sent to the medical center because I had pissed off the wrong crowds, this hurt way more than any of those. My parents and sister had always assumed that it was because I was defending people's luggage from thieves, when in reality, it was my friends and I defending our haul from another group of thieves. Either that, or we really did piss off the wrong crowd. And not one for backing away from a challenge, I wanted to make them eat their words.

But of course, I couldn't win them all. And while it hurt me to see my family all worried about me, and seeing the other parents worry about my little band of thieves, I never backed down from the other kids, even if they were older or stronger than I was. Because if you looked weak in front of a rival, they'd take it as if you didn't have the bravery to stop them from doing whatever they wanted in your area.

Mine was a small area at the train station, and even then I had a little section of that area. I was only allowed to steal from that area, and only from the luggage of those who's bags I handled. Anything else would be stepping out of line, because even though my group had a reputation of being a tough group, we were still only three people.

Me, a short and skinny fifteen year old that was known to be fearless. Bella, a fourteen year old girl that was a better fighter than myself. And Nico, a twelve year old that was surprisingly effective on his own. Most other gangs had five, eight, maybe even more on their side. And that wasn't counting the alliances between groups.

I didn't really care much for all those rules among thieves and whatever, but as long as one of the bigger gangs didn't come and drive my friends and I out of the station, I was happy with what we could get.

Still, if one gang tried to take things from your area, you were expected to either submit to them, or fight them off. My friend and I always, always, did the latter. We were nobody's bitches. Not the other group's, not the rich folk's, not the peacekeeper's, not the Capitol's. We made sure to let the other groups know what would happen if they tried to mess with us. They'd all get hurt at the very least.

And look where that got us.

With my throat feeling as if it was being crushed between two tight axles, didn't dare remove the screws from my neck, lest I drown to death in my own blood. Not that I wasn't already, as thick, metallic blood flooded inside my throat and the sick taste swam in my mouth. No. Actually, I didn't remove the screws from my neck because I was afraid of the pain it would bring.

This pain was beyond anything I had ever imagined, and what would happen if I removed those screws from my neck? How much more pain would I be in? For how much longer? I had seen tributes survive for a long time when they had gotten their necks slashed open. I remember one tribute got her neck sliced open and she managed to survive for hours. She couldn't talk, she couldn't scream, all she could do was breathe, and wait for death in a painful manner. And it terrified me.

Pain. Pain usually didn't scare me. I took the pain that came with fighting because I wanted to make life better for my family. We were poor and at the mercy of the poor conditions of District Six. It wasn't a good life, not even close. And when you look at the rich people, or even the middle class citizens of the district, you start to think of what it would be like to live a life like that. I wanted my family to have a taste of that life.

I was tired of being a luggage rat and seeing my mother and father working as hard as they were, and seeing my sister wearing the same dirty work clothes because she didn't want to spoil her second set of clothes because of the oil and grease stains that came with cleaning a train. especially the underbelly of the train.

We did all that, and yet, were were barely living. Not a whole lot of food, a house that needed fixing, and even worse, seeing how those damn Capitol folks look down at us like we weren't even human.

I hated them. Why should they have all those things when my family and friends work harder in an hour than they do their entire lives? They didn't deserve those things, so I stole from them. Not that it'd make a difference to them. Go ahead, complain, I know you'll just get another one once you get back to the Capitol.

When my little sister and my parents had found out that I had been getting more money, I told them that I had gotten a raise, and they believed me, thankfully.

Everyone still worked hard, but at least we weren't living on the edge anymore. We were more comfortable thanks to my thieving. I was eleven back then.

When I was twelve, I meet Nico. He reminded me of me, because when I saw a couple of other kids picking on him and picking a fight with him for no other reason than because he looked weak and was poor, I felt as if it were an attack on me. After taking care of those other kids, I took him under my wing and showed him the ways towards a better life.

Months passed by before we encountered Bela. She demanded that we hand over all our valuables to her, I challenged her to make us. She gladly beat us both into the ground. It wasn't until two days later we encountered her again, and I made her an offer. That if she joined us, she could make just as much money with us than she could just going on mugging random kids, without the worry of getting beaten up too badly. And thus, she joined us.

Together, we became a force to be reckoned with, at least if you weren't one of the big gangs of course. Life was as good as it was going to get to us. I doubted that we'd be getting paid extra legally anytime soon, and I doubt that we'd steal more than we could handle. If we stole too much, it would be noticed, and that would of been bad for everyone.

Plus, recently, the peacekeepers had been keeping a better eye on the luggage this time around, because of the increase of rebel activities in the district. The sabotages to the train stations, the explosives smuggled into packages, things that were downright dangerous in their own right.

It made it harder to steal. We managed to get a thing to two here and there, but it became tough. And so, most of the gangs were turning to the good old taking things for the other gangs.

I bet if I had stayed in the district and wasn't in the arena, I'd see our thieving ring go down in flames as the peacekeepers eventually make it impossible for us to make a living. I love the rebels, respect them and all, but if they didn't bring down the Capitol soon, I don't know how my friends will be able to make that extra money to help their families. Bela will probably go back to mugging other kids, and Nico would more than likely follow her.

And then there was my family. Without that extra source of less than legitimate income that I brought to the house, they'd be back to living the fine line between life and death.

My little sister, Dina, was smart, and my parents had been thinking of cutting her from school before I had started making the extra cash that has kept her in school. I think that was the happiest I had ever seen my parents, and Dina, when they found out that they wouldn't have to take her out of school so that she could wash trains full time.

If Dina was able to get far enough in school, she'd be able to get a better paying job that any of us could. And hell, if she managed to complete school, she'd be able to do a lot more things than any of us could of ever thought. And that would be when we'd be able to finally live a life.

But now with everything going down in the district, and in my current state, everything was just going to go crashing from here on out.

Why? We had all worked so hard to get to where we were now, and just like that, it was going to be taken away from us. My family was going to lose whatever future we had, and so were my friends. All because of some random events.

I could hope that the rebels will set the district free, but how long has a rebellion been going on? Even if not in the open? Since the third quarter quell? Since the Hunger Games started? Has the dark days even ended?

Why? Why out of all the people to be chosen did I have to be chosen? If I were at home, I could at least help my family and friends, but over here, I couldn't do anything for them.

I kept on running from that girl that had placed my weapon into my neck, and when I became too tired to run, I walked, and when I became too tried to walk, I just collapsed onto my side, not even caring how I looked, just as long as it wasn't on my right arm. It hurt, but the feeling that I had let down everyone that I had cared about hurt more than the physical agony that I was experiencing right now.

The emotional pain along with the physical torment was too much for me to hold in, and I let myself cry. I was near death, there was no shame in that, right? What would the others think?

Actually, fuck what the others think, I was here and they were there. I had screws in my neck and was never going to see my friends or family ever again. And this agony, this agony burned so badly that I felt as if I was on fire.

Kids had cried in the arena before. Kids had cried when getting reaped. I used to think that they were a bunch of wimps, but now that I was in their situation, I thought that they were anything but that.

I cried. I cried for my family. I cried for my friends. I cried from pain and I cried thinking about how unfair this was.

Why was I here? Why was this happening?

I wanted this pain to end, but I didn't want to pull the screws out of my neck. What do I do?

I continued to cry for who knows how long before I heard the sound of crunching rocks head towards me.

I stopped crying, and heard the crunching grow closer. There was a person there. Maybe they could help me. Maybe this wasn't the end. Maybe... Maybe there was a chance that they could help me and I could get back into the fight. Maybe everything didn't need to end now.

"Hey." I called out with a voice that was unlike my own. It was weak, it was rough, it shot needles through my throat, and it sounded like I was trying to say it through a mouthful of liquid. "Hey." I called out again.

The footsteps came closer, and closer, and I kept on calling them in a desperate attempt to get them to me. Hoping that they wouldn't pass me. And to my luck, they came up to me, and I looked at the person that had came to me. A girl around my age with brown hair. Frail, she wasn't a fighter, but she held herself with confidence and had a semi-sour look on her face. "Hey." I called out to her with my pathetic voice. "Save. Me. Please."

The girl looked at me up and down sighed.

"I can't save you." I began to get angry at her. All she did was look at me before leaving me for dead! Couldn't she of helped me? I've seen tributes wrap bandages around their necks and stuff! Couldn't she at least do that? Couldn't she at least stop the bleeding in my neck? "You're going to die." She said so matter a factly.

"No." I stated to her. "I'm. Not."

"Yeah?" She asked with an edge. I then saw her move her leg, and then all of a sudden, an explosion like no other detonated inside my body. There were no words to describe how excruciating it was. The world turned black and I could hear nothing but ringing, feel nothing but complete agony.

When I opened my eyes, I saw that there was thick red blood all over the front of my shirt. What... What the fuck happened? "I nudged your ribs with my foot," she told me. "I didn't even kick you that hard, and you blacked out and vomited blood all over yourself. At least four of your ribs are shattered, your left collarbone's destroyed, your forehead has a deep laceration, your nose is broken, you've got slashes in your neck that are inches deep, and let's not forget those nails currently in your throat. Judging by the amount of blood you've lost, you're going to pass out and die, or die of shock. Whichever hits you first."

She wasn't even going to help me! She was just making this all worse! Kicking a person while they were down! "And even if I had my supplies with me, the result would still be the same."

"Please." I begged her with tears in my eyes. "You've. Got to. Help. Me."

The girl sighed before she looked at me.

"Fine. I'll do my best." I felt only a little bit better, considering what she had said and done to me just a second ago. "Close your eyes and think of something happy." I couldn't think of anything better to do, so I did.

 **District Twelve's Alaula Kingsty (15)**

 **12:34PM**

Now what did this remind me of? Oh yes, the rebels that had came to me this earlier this morning. Was it this morning? I didn't know. It could of been three days ago for all I know since I was blacked out until I reached the arena.

That rebel had a lot of similar issues that this kid has right now, and I bet that if it were him here and in this same position, he would be putting on the same act as this kid was. Begging me to save him when I couldn't. I wasn't no damn miracle worker, as much as I wished I was, I knew when someone was beyond saving and when someone had a chance of surviving.

This kid, he had no chance of surviving, even if we were back at the clinic back in District Twelve. Nothing I could of done would of saved him.

And it's not like he was anything special anyway. There were tons of people that had came to my parent's and I, all begging us to save them or save someone else. And when we told them that we couldn't save them, they would get mad at us, because we were supposed to be the ones that could save everyone in the whole damn district when they got an injury.

They would accuse us of not caring, that we wanted them to die. That was not true, if there was a chance that they could be saved, we might take it. After all, why would we want someone to die for nothing? If there was something that we could do, we'd do it. But there were some people that expected us to be God or something. Those types of people I hated more than the rebels.

We were human, just like them. We had no more power over the life and death of anything than they did. Only what we could do with those lives. We did our best, but our best wasn't always good enough. It was always our fault if things went wrong though. We would get the blame for not saving them, for not making them perfect again.

They were ungrateful bastards. I just saved someone from bleeding to death, and you have the nerve to tell me that he'll never be able to use his leg again because I had to amputate it in order to save his life. I hated people like that.

This kid was just like them. I told him that he couldn't be saved, and he glared at me like I was a monster, not even trying to help. What would bandaging do for him anyway? Give him the false sense of being able to survive, when in reality, it would only make him suffer for a little bit longer.

I could rip a part of my shirt off and tie it around his neck after removing those nails from his neck, but that would of ruined my shirt and nothing else.

My parents taught me to rescue those that had a chance, and do what you could with those that couldn't. Because of the lack of supplies we always had, and now that there was a mini war going on within the district, we had even less supplies. We couldn't waste supplies then, and we couldn't waste supplies now. And in the arena, I wasn't going to waste supplies on a lost cause.

Still, I guess there was something that I could do. After all, I was going to do what I could for this kid.

I told him to close his eyes, and he did. And then there was the tricky part of all this.

"I won't lie to you," I told him as I got ready to help him. "It's going to hurt like a mother fucker before I make you feel better."

"Do. It." He said with agony. His broken ribs making it hard for him to even speak. His speech was broken, raspy, and it sounded painful for him to even be breathing. I had tried to show how fucked up he was so that he could see that there wasn't much that I could do for him, but he refused to see it. Because everyone wants to believe that they have a chance at surviving even when they didn't. Nobody wants to die, but you have to accept that it's a part of life.

I breathed in and out, readying myself. Doing this was always a hard part of the job, but sometimes, a job that needed to be done.

I gripped my piece of rebar tightly before I stabbed him through his left eye. Blood and a thick yellow substance spewed from his socket as he let out a high pitched cry and thrashed around wildly. His screaming continued before shoved it deeper into his head before turning it onto a different angle and shoved it in some more. Then with a mighty twist, his screams ceased to exist.

Sighing, I yanked the metal bar out and looked at the now deceased person as a cannon fired in the distance.

There was a motto that my family had. A lot of people didn't understand it, but we lived by it everyday. 'We don't save people, we help them.' And with this act, I helped this boy not suffer anymore.

 **District Three's Eve Datter (17)**

 **12:35PM**

What did I feel?

I felt hurt. I felt rage. I felt agony.

I was attacked over something so small, so minor. A boy had tried to kill me over a couple of rats when I told him that I didn't want to create an alliance with him. Was life worth so little in the arena that you'd kill someone over a little bit of food? Were people so bad that you'd smash a wrench over their face if you didn't like the look they were giving you?

Was it really so bad that I didn't want to hurt those two, but somehow, I ended up screwing those two around in one way or another. That girl with the scabbed up face, I didn't want to hurt her, but I somehow scared her and she attacked me before running away. That boy, I didn't want to hurt him, but he attacked me, tried to kill me before I was forced to retaliate and drive those screws into his neck. Because if I didn't do that, he would of never stopped. He would of kept on coming after me.

I didn't want to hurt either of them, but for some reason, they wanted to hurt me.

Back home, there were attacks, yes. People would attack you and steal things from you, but they would never kill you. As far as I've seen. And having a person try to kill you, that was something that I still couldn't wrap my head around. And I... I had killed a person. I had given them a slow, agonizing death of bleeding to death.

How long had it been since I stabbed him in the neck? Minutes? Hours? It sure felt like hours, laying on the ground and holding myself through the torment that radiated through my body like electricity through a circuit board. I didn't want to move. Moving made everything worse.

I smelt the smell of burning hair, and knew that it was the stench of the rats burning over the fire, but I didn't give a damn. I couldn't of done anything even if I wanted to, I was in that much pain.

And then there was being punched in the stomach. He had driven spikes into my stomach, and the thought of what that might or might not of done scared me more than it should of, because I didn't even know if it was true or not.

Last month, Davy and I tried sex for the first time. It was something that we wanted to try with each other, and we did it together. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't as good as people portrayed it to be. It wasn't blissful, and it wasn't something that I'd go bragging about anytime soon. More painful and awkward than anything else, but something that I regretted? Not at the moment. Not until now.

We used protection, but still, there were things that had started to become unusual. My periods became irregular, I started feeling sickness from time to time, and I just didn't feel like my same, normal self at times. And then there was that feeling. That feeling that was so strong that you couldn't help but wonder if it was just your imagination, or if it was something real.

Pregnancy.

If it turned out that I had something inside of me, what would that of meant for Davy and I if I hadn't been reaped? What would that of meant for my sisters if I couldn't help them survive the harsh world? How could of I raised this kid to survive the harsh world of District Three when I had three other girls to look after?

Sure my sisters might seem to be able to handle themselves, but there was still so much that they needed to know before they were really ready to take on the district on their own. I was not ready to let them go yet. They still needed me, but what could they do while I was too big to take care of them? When I couldn't do anything for them.

And then what of after? I couldn't ask them to take care of my kid. Davy couldn't take care of it either. There was too much on his plate already. It would be up to me, but could I do it? With everything on my plate right now, could I of done it?

Damn it. When you think things are at their lowest, life just had to make things worse.

First I got taken away from my sisters, and then I had murdered a person. And now, I was wondering about a future in which a kid, that I may or may not of had, was going to be born.

But that might not happen now, all because the Capitol decided to kidnap me and drop me in the arena for their sick entertainment. Futures were ruined. Lives were ruined. Kids would suffer, and their last few hours, minutes, or even seconds of life, would be pure torment in either the physical or mental aspect. Or if they were like me, both.

The tributes in the arena, they were like the people back in Raysville, caring about nobody and nothing but themselves. I don't know why I tried to be friendly with those two when they were clearly just kids looking to kill someone for their supplies.

I continued to lay on my side, allowing the pain to consume me and think about how my sisters were probably watching me suffer as my own blood stained my clothes and flesh was stripped from my face. If it were up to me, I would of had them stay away from that damn TV, but I wasn't there, and it wasn't up to me.

Why did my sisters have to see me like this? If I manage to make it home, I was going to tell them that everything was going to be okay. Because I would come home a victor, and with the money that we'd get, we'd be able to live a life in luxury. And our home would be in the victor village.

I just had to survive long enough for that to happen, so stay in the fight Eve.

"Hey," a childish, female voice said from above. "Are you all right?" I looked up, and saw a girl, probably no older than twelve, looking down towards me with the bluest eyes I had ever seen.

This girl, everything about her, from her dark brown hair, smooth white skin, and starch white dress, just screamed at me. This girl did not look like she belonged in the arena. She was just some innocent girl from some rich family that had just happened to be picked. The Capitol was even more sadistic than I thought if they had the nerve to pick a girl like this and expect her to fight to the death.

I looked at her closer, thinking that something like her couldn't possible exist in the arena, and yet, there she was. Looking down at me like I was someone that needed help, which of all things, I did, but could she offer them to me?

Was this a trick? Was I so close to dying that I was seeing her? Was she there to guide me up to the sky? It just didn't seem possible for her to be in a place like this.

"Yeah," I sighed heavily. "I do."

She then lowered herself down to my level, careful not to dirty her dress.

Upon further inspection, I noticed that she wasn't as perfect as I thought she had been. She bared some damages that the area had to offer. Her dress was spotted with dirt and had some rips in it, her face was dirty as well, and her hair was messy. The poor thing.

She then took strips of cloth from one of her dress pockets and started to wrap them gently around my injuries. All the while, I started to feel a whole lot better. I was still in so much pain, but the way that she was treating me made it bareable. It made me think that this was probably how my sisters felt when I treated them after they had gotten injured.

"Are you all right now?" She asked me.

"Yeah," I told her with a sigh, feeling some joy knowing that not everyone in the arena were monsters. That they weren't like that scabbed face girl and that boy who had just attacked me.

I looked at her, and thought that she might of had to run away from someone because of the way that she looked. She was so small, and so innocent looking. She wasn't a fighter, and those, she was probably a victim of the violence going around in the arena. If someone wasn't going to be there with her, then she'd end up dead.

I wasn't going to let that happen, not to some little girl of twelve years old. Not to one that showed kindness in a place where kindness was rewarded with a dislocated jaw and a screwed up fist to your gut.

She reminded me of my sisters and all the other kids that didn't deserve the fates that were handed to them. "You want to be allies?" I asked her.

She smiled to me and answered quickly.

"Yes." She answered. "Of course I would." I smiled back to her.

"My name's Eve," I told her. "What's yours?"

"Astrid." She told me.

"Don't worry, Astrid," I said to her. "I'll protect you." Her kindness will not go unrewarded.

 **A/N: Hey guys, sorry about the late update, but just so you know, when May comes up, I'll only probably be able to post one chapter. And when June and August come up, there will be no updates. Don't even ask me about September, because I have no idea.**

 **I'm also sorry that I haven't replied to your reviews, but know that I loved them all, they make me feel better inside.**

 **I've also been in more of a reading mood than a writing mood. And remember when I said that I'd read an epic 1.8 million word fanfic in chapter eleven? I still haven't gotten to it. I've been reading other fanfics though.**

 **Anyway, guess what I've been listening to lately. Here's a hint:**

 _ **Dun dun dun dun dunnn.**_

 _ **I don't care if you don't, I don't care if you don't, I don't care if you don't care.**_

 **That's right. Jesus Of Suburbia by Green Day. Been listening to Green Day for a bit.**

 **What songs have you guys been listening to?**


	21. Forged With Blood

**District Twelve's Chock Roach (18)**

 **12:46PM**

The pain in my arms had mostly disappeared and I was feeling almost like normal again.

Normal in all the essence of someone from the Seam of District Twelve could be. I was hungry, but wasn't starving, yet, and I had no idea what to do but the most basic of instinct, survive. Survive and hope that I don't meet up with that District Eight prick again. Really, what was that guy's problem? The way he talked to me like he was some kind of higher being than I was because of the colour of my skin. That was all kinds of fucked up, because even those from the Merchant section of District Twelve didn't believe the things that he believed.

District Eight must not be very strict, otherwise they must believe in white superiority, because I remember one little girl saying something to a fellow coal miner. It was a harmless question, yet the peacekeepers whipped her bad because they considered it a foul comment.

She was, like, four or something, and had never been out of the Merchant section of District Twelve, and curious at that. How was she supposed to know if we had turned this colour because we may or may not of absorbed all that coal dust we extracted from the earth?

Honestly, I could see how that would put off some people, but she didn't mean any harm by it.

As bad as that was, the retribution the rebels did to that peacekeeper was even worse. That guy had been whipped in the back so many times that we saw the faded brown colour of his spine and shoulder blades, the meat beneath his flesh bloody, raw, and being eaten by the flies. His tongue had been sliced in half to resemble one like a snake's. His eye sockets had became hollow black pits that the bugs crawled in and out of. And his chest had the word; Justice, carved in it. His body was hanging from the same whipping post as that girl had been whipped.

I felt bad for the girl, felt worse for her family when the peacekeepers kicked their door down and started to question them harshly. One peacekeeper had shouted so loud that some of the conversation could be heard in the outskirts of the Merchant section. It became huge news in the district.

So violence, hunger, and seeing death were the norm for District Twelve, but hearing someone claim such superiority over another human being like that guy from Eight had done, not normal.

Flicking another beetle into my mouth and crushing it's shell with my teeth, I let the gooey insides slide across my tongue as I thought of the war between the peacekeepers and the rebels. A huge cycle of revenge that started for one reason or the next. Usually the rebel's fault.

The peacekeepers were just doing their jobs, protecting us, making sure that trouble wasn't brewing. Even though I didn't like some of their methods, I liked the peacekeepers more than the rebels. The peacekeepers only bothered you if you gave them a reason to. The rebels didn't seem to need a reason, or they went looking for reasons to justify their actions.

Violence, must always be solved by violence, that's how the rebels seemed to think. The more violent, the more cruel we are the peacekeepers, the more we'll demoralize them and the more we'll make them want to run away. What a bunch of bullshit if I ever heard it.

They didn't need to use violence, they could try to use non-violent means. No good ones came to mind at the moment, but with all the ways they think of harming people, you'd think that they could think of ways to be humane.

I didn't like to be violent, and as such, I kept my fighter friends, Ash and Piper, out of fights when I could. Talking down those that wanted a fight, one way or another, even if it meant giving them money or doing them favors, or something else. My friends said that I was selling my pride, but at least we weren't beating our own district into the ground more than we already were. If I, an ordinary kid, could stop dozens of pointless fights with nothing more than words, couldn't something be done about this damn war?

I had tried before. Tried to suggest to a rebel that there had to be other ways to get the Capitol's attention, but they said the only way to get the Capitol to declare District Twelve's independence was through hard work, dead peacekeepers, and disrupting the Capitol's way of life.

And look at how well that made the rest of us. People in the Seam living in harsh conditions and fighting for survival in more ways than one. Tough jobs that demanded loads of work for little pay, trying to get enough food to live, discouraging people from robbing you for what little you had. What did the rebels ever give us besides demands for supplies and bodies to die for their cause?

I hadn't liked the rebels at anytime of my life, but what they did to gain the Capitol's attention that one day really made me wish that the peacekeepers would stop them. It made me feel something I didn't like rise within me, and it burned brighter than ever before.

Spitting out the tough shell fragments of the beetle, I detected the pungent smell of something foul. It smelt of smoke, but not just the kind that came from a fire. No. It was the kind that came in the form of a certain kind of animal being burned.

It was some kind of bird or other small creature.

With no wind blowing about, I knew that someone had to be close for me to be able to detect that filth. Dropping the last few bugs into my mouth, I chewed them up before swallowing them, shells and all.

I didn't know what I was going to see, so I gripped my steel pole tight and thought of what the best course of action would be. A part of me wanted to run, knowing that there were people that would like nothing more than to turn me into another victim of the Hunger Games, but another part of me knew that there were people that weren't entirely like that. That they were just scared people, like me. Kids that weren't all that bad.

It was almost instantly after I gripped my weapon tightly that I spotted a ruined structure. Made of aged concrete that hadn't yet fallen to the elements, it looked like the perfect place for someone to hole up in. It wasn't too big, yet it wasn't too small. Bigger than a house that's for sure, but not overly. The windows were holes that had formed in the walls.

As quietly as I could, I snuck up to the building and peeked in through one of the windows. It didn't see anyone, but inside the building I piles of ruined concrete blocks, sunlight shining into part of the building, allow the thick dust to show itself off, and other bits of wasted concrete. But as I looked more, I spotted a trail of smoke coming from the center of the single room. From there, I spotted a pile of half charred pieces of wood with a stand made of two metal boxes on each side of the blackened timber. Laying across those boxes was a long, shiny stick with a black lump in the center.

Was that the thing that I had smelt?

And near the fire pit. Was that blood?

What had happened here and where was the-

Wait... There was another smell that was even more foul than that of a burnt small animal. I knew that smell. It was that of a certain type of dried plant that had been shredded and rolled. Tobacco.

It was close, I could smell it now, it had been mixed in with the remnants of the fire smoke and the stench of burnt animal. It was close, but where was it coming from? If I could find it's source, I could probably find the owner of the fire and find out what happened here. Assuming it wasn't the aggressor that was still alive. A cannon had fired just earlier after all.

Scanning the room for a body when I felt something grab my hair and my nose exploded with pain. I couldn't help but yell out in pain and surprise before I thrashed around wildly, wanting to hit whatever had grabbed me.

Luckily, I had someone gasp in pain when I felt my pipe hit something fleshy. They didn't release my head, but it gave me enough time to think, and I did the first and only things that came to my mind. I gave out a powerful war cry before I leaped over the bottom of the building's window with the grace of someone having a convulsion.

I had fallen off the window and onto the hard ground inside the building, my hair nearly getting ripped out, when I felt something hard and pointed jab me in the right wrist some hard that I thought it was going to skewer the limb. I ended up dropping my weapon, but I was on one knee, and I lunged my head forward, striking them right in the chest.

Air rushed out of their lungs before I slammed both my fists into their sides, causing a weapon to clang on the hard floor. I repeated that attack until I felt a hard, rounded bone slam into my face. Another wave of pain exploded in my face before it was shoved backwards, and the back of my skull felt the wave of agony my face had just experienced.

Whoever this was was a better fighter than the boy from Eight had been since they could actually fight back.

I managed to see colours instead of blurs for the first time since I first had my faced slammed into the window hole before I felt a hard kick to the ribs. I gasp out before I blocked the next attack, grabbing their foot and twisting it hard. They twirled awkwardly in the air before they landed on their face, facing away from me. And that's when the world turned black for a split second as an explosion detonated in my entire face. They had kicked me so hard that I tasted sick metallic liquid in my mouth.

Even though I was blinded by a display of exploding colours, I got to my feet as quickly as I could, desperate to end this fight as quickly as possible. They missed with their next kick, and I used this opportunity, and they momentum, to move my hands from their foot to their leg and swing them into the wall. I was rewarded with a thwak, and I did not feel pleased with myself.

Dropping the injured person, I back away and shook my head vigorously to get rid of the flashing colours. There was a groan from my opponent, and from the sounds they were making, they were rapidly getting up.

My vision was clear enough to see where they were, and not wanting them to get up before my vision was completely healed, I kicked them in the gut, causing them to lose all the air they had in them and make the collapse like a bag of coal.

"Stay down if you know what's good for you," I threatened. "I don't want to fight you."

They then started to cough, but oddly, it sounded like laughter. It confused me. After everything I had done to them, they were laughing? I had actually hurt them, and they were laughing? What was there to laugh about?

"Then you don't," a cough occurred. "Belong here." A rough, female voice chuckled. And I recognized that voice.

"Alaula?" I asked. That was when her laughter stopped.

"How-" she coughed harshly several more times. "How do you know my name?"

I knelled down beside her and answered.

"Everyone in Twelve knows who you are. You're one of our medics. And I've come to the clinic before. I'm Chock. Chock Roach."

"Is that stupid name supposed to mean something to me?" Alaula asked.

"I was part of the riot a couple years back. You commented on my stupid name back then as well." I was not proud of that riot and what it had done. If I could take my actions back, I would in an instant. It had not been worth it.

"I remember the riot," she snarled, barring her teeth and her eyebrows coming together. "You people drained my parents and I of supplies, made us work thirty six hour shifts with only an hour of sleep in between. Even with what volunteers we had, all you people did was bitch and moan and complain. We saved as many as we could, helped as much as we could, DID what we could, but it's never enough for you people, is it?" I was scared, but more confused. I did not know what was going on. All I remember is Alaula helping me through my pain and her commenting on my name when I told her. She had been kind to me... Well, as kind as she could be.

"What?" I asked stupidly.

"Course you wouldn't understand." Alaula growled. I sighed, not knowing what else to do.

"I'm sorry for what you had to go through," I told her honestly. "But I'm sure that we can help each other through this. We're district partners after all." That was when my district partner spat out a mixture of blood and saliva.

"So you can leech off me again? And besides, your with the rebels, why would I want to help you?"

"I'm not with the rebels." I told her, thinking of how much I hated the rebels myself. "And besides, I doubt you can last very long out here on your own."

"Yeah, because you can really hold your own seizure boy." She commented with heavy sarcasm as she stood up and brushed herself off. She then shoved past me and picked up her weapon, which I could now see was a rebar pole. "Answer me this; How do you plan on winning?"

I shrugged my shoulders, and told her my honest plan.

"Survive off the land and only fight when I have to."

"And when do you have to fight?" She asked, purposely extending the words.

"Self defense." I declared, to which she blinked once and turned around.

"Bye." She said without hesitation, which shocked me. How could she do that so easily?

"Wait," I called to her, running up to her, grabbing my weapon along the way. "Why?" Without turning to face me, she replied.

"You and I aren't a good fit. You're too soft."

"Too soft?" I asked in shock. "Too soft? Did you not see what I did to you just a minute ago?"

"Felt it," she deadpanned. "But your strategy is too idealistic. It's fucking bullshit, and you should just do us all a favor and jump from the highest structure you can find, and save all of us a lot of trouble." I just stared at her, how could she even say that? And how could she dismiss me so quickly? She didn't even know me all that well. How could she make that kind of judgement?

"Oh come on," I pleaded. I did not want to be out there alone. Two people together were better than one. "You can't be serious. Come on, think this through. You won't last long out here on your own. Just imagine-"

All right, fine," the medic sighed heavily. "If you win, what would you do with the earnings?" You know what, I've never thought of what I'd do with the money if I won the Hunger Games. I've always just accepted my life and how I could make it better by my own means. I didn't need money to be happy. Sure it would make things more comfortable, maybe, but I had seen what happened to the victors in the other districts. And the two most recent victors here. Though recent is twenty and thirty years ago they had won their victory. I had heard the stories. They had aged rapidly, addicted to alcohol and drugs. Lived a life with more money than most of us could even dream of, and yet, they had been miserable. One died of drug overdose, another by suicide.

Money didn't always make things better, but it could help people if you spent it smartly.

And it couldn't be a one time investment that lasted only as long as my money came in. And it couldn't be used improperly. It had to be something solid.

"I'd to it to help the people of the district," I said, thinking about how many people were suffering from the war between the rebels and the peacekeepers. "Improve the district bit by bit. Bring in a steady trading system or something where people can not just get jobs, but expand them as well. Create a better quality of life in the district. The rebels are rebelling because of a crappy situation in a crappy place after all."

"Ha," Alaula laughed. "You really think that it's going to be that easy?" I didn't get a chance to answer before she cut me off. "Whatever, good enough, I respect that." I then heard the snapping of small bones, and looked towards the sound and saw that she had snapped a burnt rat in half. Then I saw the inside of the rat, and saw that it was dry, but cooked well. Alaula handed me half before she peeled away the fur. "Allies. For now."

I smiled at her as I peeled the fur off my rat.

"To the death." And speaking of death, I looked at her and her clothes. A dirty dark grey shirt and brown cargo pants, and saw that there wasn't any blood on it. But then I looked at her weapon, and saw that it had some sort of gooey substance mixed with blood on the tip of it. "Did you kill the person here?" I asked, thinking of the abandoned and burned food we were eating and the blood I had spotted earlier.

"No," she answered as she bit into her rat. "I followed a blood trail that lead to here."

"Then what's with the stuff on your rod?"

"Oh that?" She calmly said. "I put someone out of their misery. Not the person here mind you, but probably the person who had retreated from here." How she could calmly state that she had killed someone was chilling to think about.

 **District Five's Alaria Grindetti (18)**

 **12:51PM**

There were those that didn't appreciate art, and some of those people were the people that had sent me into this god damn arena.

It couldn't just be a coincidence that I was thrust into his game without a reaping, without a pre-game charade of tours and interviews, it just couldn't. I mean, if the Capitol had any kind of brain power, which those in charge probably had half of one, they would of known that I would of tried to put them in a bad light. So those of them that had a brain, choose to kidnap me and throw me into the arena without going through that spectacle.

After all, what was the point of showing us off to the Capitol? It wasn't that they were showing us off, it was to show themselves off. To show that they lived in the riches while we lived in the shit holes we called home.

Sure my family was better off than most of those that resided in District Five, but even then, we were nothing compared to the Capitol that could literally burn money in their fire places for heat and would still have plenty to spare. So it wasn't just to tell themselves that they were better than us, but it was to also tell us just how low our lives were compared to them.

And this arena seemed to want to drive this point home. A ruined city of broken buildings for ruined people that they could break like cheap toys and not even bother to repair.

If I were in the Capitol, I would have loved to set the place ablaze, and that's probably another reason they didn't reap me.

They had taken me in the middle of the night, after I had confronted my so called 'friends' and went off to create some more art. Everything became black soon after that. Next thing I know, I was in the arena.

I hadn't known it at first, but it was the only thing that made sense, since there were no parts of District Five that looked quite like this place. The idea only solidified when I heard a cannon go off.

There was plenty of time to think about what had happened, and while I had a few ideas, there was one that kept on coming back to me. Xavia and Porter had been sent by my mom, and they were the ones guiding the peacekeepers to me. They'd be the distraction, and while my focus was on them, the peacekeepers would hide and wait for me to come to them.

But it wasn't just them. Oh no. It wasn't just the three of them involved in that plan. Because of my relationship with Heryna and the actions I had done, I was hated by both the rich and the poor classes of the district.

I was hated by the poor simply because I was rich and could live a comfortable life, and I was hated by the rich because I went against their ideas of what I should of been. The rich supported the Capitol, the rich didn't get involved with the poor the way I did, especially one as rich as mine, and they definitly, didn't support the rebels. At least out in the open. There may of been some rich folks supporting them, but they were too cowardly to admit that and kept it to themselves, preferring to preserve their own skin than put their neck out to help another person.

To think that I would of been one of them if I hadn't meet Heryna. I was ashamed to think that so shallow, so selfish back then. Not as much as some other riches that I knew of, but given enough time, I might of turned into them.

Looking at my trashy clothes consisting of a blue t-shirt, black trousers, and brown shoes, I wore them with pride, knowing that I wasn't going to be just another machine that ran off of Capitol propaganda. I was a human with a brain, that had it's own thoughts and feelings, not ones that were manufactured by the Capitol.

While they could control the districts they couldn't control people like me, Heryna, and the rebels. And with this weapon in my grasp, I could make sure that they lose their control of the district once I set foot out of here.

With a lean and sleek piece of wood in the shape of a long and thin cylinder, this was light enough to swing around near effortlessly, yet solid enough to potentially deliver serious damage. Coiled around it were loops of razor wire. Together, they made a devastating weapon that could not only crack a person's skull open, but also shred their face apart.

I would of liked something like a bow, because then I wouldn't need to get up close and personal with those that threatened me. One shot to the chest and their lungs would be drowning in blood. And I wouldn't receive a scratch.

Well, If I do manage to find one, I knew that I'd take it in an instant.

But for now, this face shredder would do, and I had a perfect testing victim for it.

In front of me was a guy with a duffle bag, already injured, from the way he'd avoid placing the bag over his lower back, preferring that it were on one side or the other. And not only that, but I had seen the number on his back. It was a number four, telling me that he was a career from district four. Not only that, but he was alone as well.

Careers. They were ones that practically thrived off the Capitol because of their submission to them. Thriving off the Hunger Games while the rest of us suffered because of it. It was outrageous.

Well this game was different. There was no cornucopia and everyone was separated. The careers were out of their element. Where he had gotten those supplies I do not know, but they were going to be mine soon.

Running in a large circle to a place I thought he was going to be in, I picked a hiding spot to ambush him. Now hiding under a thick sheet of ruble, I waited for the boy to approach me.

And then I saw him, but didn't attack right away. I knew that if I went for the full on frontal assault, it would end badly. I was strong for someone back in District Five, not overly so though, but that was nothing compared to someone from a career district. And from watching previous games, a non-career fighting a career on a one on one fight fairly never ended well. So in order to win, I was going to have to fight dirty.

I waited for his back to face me, and that's when I sprung into action.

Emerging from the makeshift cave, I wasted no time into thinking about my attack, I just swung at his head with all my might, wanting him to look like Heryna by the time I was done with him.

But for some ungodly reason, he ducked, and my weapon smashed into the concrete wall, causing shock waves to violently shake my arms and make me drop my weapon as I became stunned by the sheer agony it gave me.

"Really?" He shouted before he grabbed a fistful of my hair and jerked it back hard enough for me to think that a chunk of my hair might of been ripped out. I saw his fist fly towards me, and before I could attempt to block it, I was on the ground with my face burning in agony. "Do girls hate me or something?"

I was dizzy and in pain, but I wanted this career to feel a little of what it was like to live in a place where he didn't belong. A place where luxury wasn't plentiful and where things hurt.

Getting to my feet as quickly as possible, I wanted to punch the career like he had done to me, but as soon as I looked at him again, I was again, knocked to the ground, and my face burned even more. "Fucking stay down." He sharply demanded. "I don't want to fight you."

"Pussy." I spat at him.

"What?" He asked in confusion and anger.

"Just because you're a career doesn't mean that I need to be afraid of you." I then gave a chuckle. "And you don't want to fight? Why don't you? Are you too much of a coward to face a lone, non-career girl without the rest of your allies?" I mocked, knowing that they almost always hunted in their career pack.

The career glared at me before he turned towards my weapon. As he picked it up, I took my chance and charged at him. I slammed my body into him, but all it did was make him stagger back a couple of feet in surprise before he manged to get a hold of himself.

I then felt myself get shoved backwards before I saw him swung back my razor wire covered weapon and swing it at me. I tried to move away, but it ended up striking me, and the sheer torment it gave me was overwhelming. I felt the razor edges of the wire dig into my left cheekbone and tare the flesh covering it. It felt it slice through, scrapping the bone as hot blood poured from the wound. It was quickly followed by an even more intense pain before I hit the ground again.

"Does it hurt?" He asked cruelly. "Because I didn't even swing my hardest, but you girl, did."

Despite the pure agony I was experiencing, I still couldn't help but give out a light laugh.

"And that's why you're a pussy." I told him through the pain before I felt a vice wrap around my throat and lift me to my knees, then to my feet. My left eye was shut because of the pain in my cheekbone, but my right eye was glaring at the career through pure determination to not appear cowardly to this Capitol lap dog. I gripped his arms and tried to force him to stop strangling me, but his arms were like iron.

"I don't want to fucking fight you," he snarled at me, his sea green eyes looking fierce. "What part of that is so fucking hard to understand?"

I tried to pry his fingers apart, but his grip was too tight, and I was finding it getting more and more difficult to breathe as I struggled to get air. And just when the edges of my vision started to get cloudy, he released me, and I dropped to my knees and sucked in as much precious oxygen as I could.

Coughing and sputtering, I welcomed the air down my aching throat. "Leave me alone." Like all the other times other non-career kids begged to be left alone in previous games? Like how kids in non-career kids to begged to not be reaped in the Hunger Games? Only for the careers and the Capitol to spit in their faces? No, I was not granting you your wish.

I continued to coughed and placed a hand on the ground before I spoke again.

"F-" I stuttered. "Fine." I coughed twice before he smiled an smile that wasn't pleasant, but strangely not overly so.

"Thanks." And that's when I grabbed a chunk of concrete and smashed it in his face. Earning me another shot of pain in the face, this time it was the right side. I fell to the ground again. "Bitch!" He spat out before I felt a rush of pain in my gut as the air came out of me before I coughed some more. I fell face first into the ground in order to cover my gut with my hands.

I looked up at the career, determined to try to make him suffer. Right now, I couldn't do anything to the Capitol, or the peacekeepers, but I could do something to the next best thing. I was about to try and attack him again, but another body collided into the career, and the career's face and body smashed into the concrete wall before a new voice shouted out in anger.

"What do you think you're doing to that girl!"

 **District Nine's Harvest "Harv" Miller (17)**

 **1:04PM**

There had been screaming from both a male and a female. I didn't know what it was, but from the way that girl had screamed, I guessed that she was being attacked by someone. And from the sounds of anger from the boy, I guessed that he was the one attacking her.

There were some sick people out there that would try to take advantage of their strength, even more so now that we were in the arena. It wasn't right that the strong would terrorize the weak simply because they could. If someone weak tried to fight someone that was strong, they stood less of a chance than they did if they were on equal grounds.

It was just another reason I looked up to the rebels. They were standing up for the little people, doing what they couldn't do, and taking on the large and powerful Capitol, who had much more manpower and weapons at their disposal.

My family had been one of those kinds of people, back when they had been alive. They were helpless against the will of the Capitol, and because they couldn't stand up to the peacekeepers, they ended up dying. Why? Because the Capitol could do that.

Monty wouldn't submit to their will, so they made him. It was people like that that really made my blood boil.

And when I saw the boy, obviously bigger and taller than her, looking down at the fallen girl before she tried to fight back again. She was in pain, that I could obviously see, but she was determined to keep on fighting against the guy, and it didn't end up good for her. The guy attacked her some more, and I could tell that he was going to kill her. This was the Hunger Games after all, and he had a number four on his back, identifying him as a career.

A career that size taking on a much smaller girl was telling me that the careers, even though they were separated, still arrogantly thought that they could harass non-careers like the peacekeepers did to the normal district folks.

Well I was going to give him a wake up call, and I was going to save that girl.

I charged at him while I shouted at him before I slammed my entire body weight into him, making the side of his body slam into concrete wall. He gave out a loud grunt of pain an instant before I grabbed the back of his head and smashed it into the wall. It earned me a scream from the career, but when I pulled his head back to repeat the attack, I felt something hard and edgy hit me in the abdomen, causing me to loosen my grip before I felt hands grip my arm and spin me around.

My back hit the wall before I saw a fist come flying towards me. I tried to dodge it, but I still got hit and a blur of colours exploded in my vision.

I couldn't let him hit me again, so I charged right at him. When Monty had teached me about hand to hand combat, he had told me that people almost never expected you to run into the path of attack. As I did that, I felt myself slam into another body before I grabbed him by his clothes, and twirled sharply, and threw my opponent away with all my might. I didn't care where he went, just as long as it was away from me.

Blinking rapidly in an attempt to clear my sight, I drew my steel pipe, ready to really deal some damage to this career.

"Seriously?" The career growled before my sight became mostly clear again. The career's face was bloody in some places, and it was going to become even more so. Swinging my pipe in a swift and short arc, I was going for a quick attack to get him disorientated before I did more powerful attacks.

But that plan shattered when he blocked the attack by hitting my wrist with the back of his arm. Panicked, I lunged a leg at him, but he easily evaded it before I felt my arms being twisted. I arms twisted in such a way that in order to not break them, I spun around until my back was facing the career. I then lost my grip on my weapon before I felt serious agony wash over my entire body as my testicles seemed to explode.

I couldn't help but let out a wail before I fell to the ground and clutched my groin and roll onto my side.

I then felt another explosion in the side of my chest, and with one hand, I grabbed that as well as I cried out in pain. "I could break your god damn ribs if I really wanted to!" He shouted at me before I felt another wave of pain radiate through me. "Do you want that?" Another wave of pain before I curled up and tried to protect my front the best I could. "Do you?" I then felt a foot kick me in the back, sending a shock wave through my spine.

I couldn't let him hit me in the head, he had my weapon, and with it's weight and enough strength it could splatter my brains all over the concrete. I curled up even more into a ball to protect my head, chest, and groin, hoping to gain an opportunity to counter before I died.

Where was Mina? Why wasn't she helping me? She was strong, and right now, I needed someone to back me up. But as I got kicked in the back repeatedly, I began to think that Mina had abandoned me.

No. I don't think Mina would of done that. Sure she acted cowardly when I had first encountered her, but she could defend herself, I knew she could. But she better find her bravery soon, otherwise me and this other girl were dead.

And just like that, I heard the sound of a girl screaming out a war cry before a dull wrack occurred followed by a yell of pain. I dared to look, and saw Mina wailing at the career with her wooden board. He blocked with his arms, but it seemed to damage him more than help him.

Mina continued to swing, and each hit damaged the career more and more, and Mina was getting the upper hand. I smiled, thinking of how I had ever doubted her. We were beating a career! But then Mina missed a swing, and she overbalanced and staggered before the career pulled out something that I hadn't noticed that he had before; a sword.

As he took a swing, I yelled a warning.

"Mina, look out!"

Mina managed to look up in time, scream in fright, and have the career sword ledge itself into her board. The career then swung the sword away from Mina, ripping the board from her grip before he smashed the board onto the concrete wall, tearing it in two.

Mina then looked terrified as she didn't even look like she was trying anymore. The career sheathed his sword before he started to walk towards Mina. Mina backed away, but the career continued to go towards her.

I needed to help Mina. I needed to! Get up Harv! I screamed to my aching body. Get up damn you!

"Hey! Our fight's not over!" A female voice called out before the girl I was trying to save leaped onto the career and held him in a chock hold.

"Arah!" The career cried out in fury. "Leave me alone bitch!" He then wasted no time biting the girl in the arm, earning a scream from the girl, causing her to let go, right before Mina uppercut him, hard. The career lost his footing and crashed down beside me as a stream of blood splashed onto the concrete.

I then pushed past the intense agony and rolled on top of him before I started my beat down. Slamming my right fist into his face, feeling knuckles scrape against bone with every hit. It hurt my fist, but I bet it hurt the girl he had hit even more.

"How does it feel!" I asked him as I continued to hit him. Bits of his face were starting to open up by now. "How does it feel to be on the other side!"

I then felt myself being rolled over, and before I knew it, I was the one on the bottom of the mount. The career then grabbed the front of my shirt and forced me to my feet before he grabbed my right arm and turned it in such a way that it made me turn away from him and had my arm locked behind my back.

I did what Monty had taught me, and tried to slam the back of my head into his face, but he managed to dodge it, and then there was a wooden spike in front of my throat. I stopped resisting, knowing that if I moved in anyway, it was going into my neck.

"Step away!" The career demanded as he faced the two girls. "Right fucking now! Or I'll end him and you two with my sword!" The two girls, especially Mina, looked worried. The new girl glared and seemed to want to rush the career, but because I was in the way, she was holding out.

"What-" Mina stuttered in fright. "What do you want from us?"

"I want you two to back off, leave me alone, and let me take him with me." The career answered.

"You can't just take him." Mina told him.

"The hell I can't," the career countered as he pressed the spike onto my neck. I pulled my head away, but he continued to apply pressure on my neck. "I'm the one in control right now."

"I know," Mina told him smoothly. "All I'm asking is that we get him back. And you'll want to give him back, or else we'll follow your trail and find you before killing you in your sleep all in the name of revenge."

A stare off between the two girls and the career came about, along with tense silence. I didn't know how this was going to play out, because it seemed that the career was actually thinking about what he was going to do. It worried me. I hoped that I'd be able to get out of this alive. So many thoughts ran through my mind.

"I'm taking him," the career told the girls. Mina looked like she was going to protest, but the career interjected. "But I'll return him to you when I'm a good distance away. All that I ask is that you don't follow me."

"How will we know where he is then?" Mina asked.

"Don't worry," the career answered as he started to back away. "You'll know."

I then began to be forced back with the career as he continued to hold my life in his hand. I wasn't going to try anything brave, because then I'd just be dead.

As we walked, I couldn't help but think that the three of us had lost to a single career. Was this how the rebels felt when fighting the peacekeepers? I suddenly got even more respect for them. They had such a hard job, fighting for us and all.

The career took me back a fair distance before we went up a ruble hill. I saw the two girls, still in the same position they had been in when we were departed by force. When we reached the top of the junk pile, I could see a fair distance in the horizon. The sun was shining brightly and plenty of the city's devastation was to be seen. It was kind of beautiful in a dreadful kind of way.

The sun shining over the place. That probably what made it pretty to look at. "You must think of yourself as some kind of fucking hero." The boy hissed at me. "Me, the big bad career attacking a princess waiting for her asshole prince to rescue her. Well let me tell you something, that's not what fucking happened. I was going to let her go, but she kept on attacking me. In fact, that bitch attacked me first. And then you had to had to jump in and attack me as well." He then spat some blood on the side of my face, but I didn't dare wipe it off.

And why was he telling me this? Was it because he wanted me to think that he was in the right before I died. Was it to convince himself that he was in the right? "So I'm going to tell you to do one thing for me." He growled in my ear. I couldn't help but swallow a lump in my throat as I felt the thick splinter of wood against my throat.

"What?" I asked as bravely as I could, not wanting to appear as a coward towards the career.

All of a sudden, I felt something gently hit my shins before the career moved his hands away from me. And then, as sudden as thunder, I felt myself getting shoved forward. I tripped over the thing in front of my shins and screamed out in fright as I started to tumble down the mountain of ruble.

"Have a nice trip!" He yelled to me in a jokingly matter before laughing as I painfully hit what seemed to be everything with a blunt point on every part of my body.

It felt like forever before I managed to stop rolling down, and by that time, my entire body was in pure agony. I couldn't even move, and I'm pretty sure I tasted blood in my mouth. I gave out a mighty groan before I heard Mina's voice.

"Harvest!" She cried out in concern. "You all right?" I gave out a groan in response. At least they were both safe. "Yeah, well, we all feel that way." Not as much as I do, I thought. I didn't want to move from this spot for, like, hours. This was worse than getting beaten by Monty during training. Much, much worse. "I've got some good news though," Mina continued. "This girl, Alaria, she said that she'd like to ally with us as a thank you for saving her."

Great, another ally, this was looking up. Not by much, but it was looking up.

I gave a weak groan and struggled to give a thumbs up before I collapsed back into the ground.

 **A/N: Well, here it is, your last update until maybe a little before September. It's not the epic next chapter that I really want to write, but it's something to look forward to.**

 **Not getting as many reviews as before, am I doing something wrong?**

 **Anyway, I hope you all have a good summer, I know I won't. LOL, just kidding, I don't know if I will or not. It'll probably have its moments though.**

 **If you want to read other things by me as you wait, I recommend that you read:**

 **#1: Shattered Souls. My one and only fully complete multi-chapter fanfic. A SYOT nearly 300,000 words long and the fic I'm the most proud of simply because I finished it. Contains mature subject matter, rated M for a reason.**

 **#2: Shades of Normality. A slow(ish) paced story of twenty four mentally ill teenagers. It's not completed, hasn't even reached the arena yet, but I'm doing it more for the characters and the story than just the violence. Not a SYOT as all the characters are my creation. Even out of the arena, it'll contain mature subject matter.**

 **#3: Infamous Games. One chapter away from being complete, it shows games that are forever remembered by the Capitol. People seem to really enjoy the torture chapter for some sadistic reason.**

 **#4: Consequences of Survival. Not a Hunger Games fic, but if you enjoy zombies, it has it. Kind of. They're more like the rage zombies from 28 days later than anything else. It's still in it's early stages, and slow paced, so be warned of that.**

 **Now that that bit of narcissism is (mostly) over, here's a question for you guys: What are your plans for the summer?**


	22. Coloured Backlash

**District Eight's Thiago Fredericks (18)**

 **1:29PM**

Never before had I felt pain like this.

Even though the blood had stopped flowing from my busted nose, the pain still lingered there and it would occasionally flare up, presenting me with another wave of agony that felt like it was being broken again. That District Twelve faggot had also maybe broken my ribs as they were still aching as well. But worst of all? He had kicked me in the god damn balls! Twice! If there was anything that had hurt more than getting my nose fucking broken, it was getting kicked in the fucking balls!

That coal stained miner was going to pay for what he had done, because if I encountered him again, he was going to pay with his life. I'd rip his balls off and shove them down his fucking throat! That is, if he had any balls to begin with. After all, can't be too sure with primitive animals like him.

Even through all this agony, I couldn't help but chuckle. There was another reason why that waste of oxygen shouldn't be allowed to continue to live, and it was the simple reason of he couldn't survive in this world. Why? Because he couldn't do what needed to be done. If he had any kind of brain he would of killed me, but he didn't, and that was his fatal mistake. A weakness that gave me even more reason to cleanse the world of his kind.

We were better off without that kind of person, and just like that little black monkey, getting rid of him would be a service to the world.

I remembered my lesson about these people perfectly. My father had brought me to the factory that he owned and showed me the way things worked. Those that were below us would slave away at the machines and create products that would be fit for selling to those that could afford them. Those that deserved them, whether that was the Capitol or those of the elite in District Eight.

We were above getting our fingers wrecked by the tailoring machines and ruining our fingers through getting impaled by needles. We were above getting on our hands and knees and getting dirty, grime, and oil on our clothes and skin. Those that couldn't afford to live our life style deserved what they had coming.

There was a reason why they slaved over us day and night, willing to do degrading things in order to continue living their worthless, pathetic lives. It was because they needed the money that they didn't have.

Money, its what makes the world go around and create the cycle of life we know all so well. Someone like my father would create me, so that I could keep our way of life running. Be it keeping those losers on the production line in their place, or keeping those in the Capitol happy, we were the ones to do just that.

And those rats that scurried around without a hope in the world? They'd continue to create us things and work their entire lives so that they could have a hope that their little rats could survive, only for them to work for us until they died, hoping that their little rats could survive. And if they got fired and their little ones died of starvation because of their incompetence, well, it was their fault for being such a damn lousy worker.

And if they got laid off or couldn't work worth a damn anymore because their arm got ripped out because of the machine, or they got burned because of the machine, it showed what a bad worker they were. If they had been smart enough to prevent it, then they wouldn't of gotten injured.

I was told not to worry about them, as they were a dime a dozen and easily replaceable. With so many others willing to take their place, we didn't need to worry about an upset worker or two, or ten.

'We're above them Thiago,' My father had told me. 'There's a reason why we're up here, and why they're down there. And don't feel sorry for them. They choose for this to happen to them.'

That was the first lesson I learned about the human food chain, and the most important as well, because it opened my eyes to more of how the world worked, and from there, I was able to see for myself just who was lower on the food chain.

At the top was the Capitol, and there were people like my family who were part of the elite, then there were working rats, then the women, then the coloured, then the ones that were fucked up in both the mind and the body.

I wasn't sorry for any of those that were lower than me, because they were born that way. If God had determined them greater, then they would of been born better. Instead, they were pieces of shit that we could use however we wanted.

Of course there were those that disagreed, like those that belonged to those sub-human categorizes, and of course, the peacekeepers.

The peacekeepers, what a joke they were. They thought they were the law, but they had little power over me, because they knew that if they dared lay a hand on me, that my father would make the pay for what they had done.

So while they threatened to take me in for harassing some of the human trash, I knew that there was nothing they could do to stop me. They were nothing more than bugs with the authority to carry guns around. My mother had told me that I shouldn't try and antagonize the peacekeepers or something like that, but what did she know? She was nothing more than a means for procreation, and even then she wasn't very useful. The only good thing she had ever done was create me and that's about it. The rest of her being was to serve the men in her life.

I spat out a sickening taste in my mouth as I thought of a world that people had talk of so much. A world of men and women mixing together like equals. That was just fucked up. Those were the words of the weak, and those that didn't know better.

In a proper world, the lucky girl that you got together would would serve you and make you happy, and they should be glad that you choose them instead of some other bitch so that they could live a better life than those that don't have us. There were many times I think my mother had forgotten that, and with a few beatings from me, I was sure that she'd remember, but than again, she was nothing more than some dumb bitch anyway.

Those that couldn't handle the way society worked, they should either learn to accept it, or do us all a favor and kill themselves. And for those that say that's harsh, welcome to the real world.

That black stain I had killed wouldn't accept the way things worked, and I had gotten rid of him, showed him a little of what was right. But that no good coal miner, he still needed to be taught how the world works, and I was going to show him.

And the rebels, those god damn fucking rebels, wanting to change society to fit their views. Things have been running the same for hundreds of years, why should they change now? Because you feel like they should? You just can't accept your place in life, is that it?

Rubbing myself some more, and feeling anger rise again, I took off further in to the arena, looking to make the world just a little more proper.

 **District One's Zoey Montague (14)**

 **1:37PM**

Twirling the sharpened bit of hard plastic through my fingers, I thought of Cash, and how more than likely he was in the arena with me. After all, those people in black had shot something at me that made me sleepy, and he was with me when that happened. It wouldn't be out of mind to think that he was here with me.

But here with me he was not. He may be in the arena, but if he was, he wasn't beside me right now. I worried for him, he was my only friend, and from what I know of him, it wouldn't be out of line to know that he didn't belong in the arena.

Looking at the homemade weapon between my fingers, I thought of the moment we had became friends. That trainer had been mean to me, discriminating me because I was of different appearance than the rest. That when I entered the arena that I was going to die within the first couple of days.

He stood up to a trainer in my defense, even though we hadn't even interacted with each other before. Maybe it was because we were different from the other kids. Because one of the trainers had discriminated us because of our looks, maybe it was because another told us that we, the kids of District One, were nothing more than kids with good looks that were going to die in the arena.

Either way, Cash ended up in trouble with the academy, but we became friends after that.

My friend was never afraid of confrontation. Wither it was talking back to someone, standing in between other kids wanting to pick a fight with me, or just running up to them and unexpectedly striking them across the face when they least expected it. He wasn't afraid of fighting and he was not afraid of getting hurt, after all, we had been trained to fight and we had learnt well. The academy made sure of that, and we were the best in our year.

But that wasn't why I worried for him. Not at all. Cash could defend himself easily, but was he willing to kill someone? Cash was a kind person, perhaps too kind. And though people might say otherwise, as I have seen him in moments of rage and manipulation, he was still too kind for the arena, because if shit went down, was he able to split a head open?

Sighing, I stopped spinning the knife and pocketed in between the back of my pants and belt and stood from the pile of wood and other debree that had probably been a house before it had went to ruin and left to rot.

Looking out at this near desolate area, I wondered if the reason we were in this godforsaken place was because Cash and I had been caught outside past curfew. Did the peacekeepers think we were rebels? Or were the rebels the ones that shot us with those things that made us fall asleep? Did they turn us in because they wanted a second chance at life and decided that a couple of rule breakers would grant them freedom?

No. No the rebels wouldn't do that, they were fighting the Capitol, so why would they care about a couple of kids meeting in the middle of the night? It had to be the peacekeepers, they'd be the only ones that could do this. But how did they find out? We had been so careful.

I tisked at myself, not believing I didn't think of it before. We were teenagers, and as most of the adults say in hushed tones, teenagers were naturally rebellious. Not as rebellious as the actual rebels, but they were more trouble than just about anything else in their minds. So we couldn't of been the only two out there that night. Maybe someone else spotted me and someone squealed to the peacekeepers that they had seen me. The peacekeepers then waited for Cash to show up, and then, boom, they decide to send us into the arena to teach us a lesson. A very harsh, and disappropriate lesson.

But, what do they care? My dad said that when he was training to be a peacekeeper, they make you care less about those you have your gun in front of. They wanted him to feel detached from those that weren't peacekeepers, and if he had stayed in the program longer, then he probably wouldn't of fallen for my mom, and I would of never been born. So it wasn't out of bounds to think that the peacekeepers wouldn't have done this to Cash and I for simply breaking curfew.

Feeling my teeth press against each other, I thought of how I was going to volunteer in a few years, but I guess even fate wanted me dead before I could prove to everyone that just because I was of different colour. Anger flashed through my body as I felt my fingers curl into fists.

I was not going to show the world what the other kids in One thought about me were true. I was not going to let them win. I wasn't going to act like I did in the beginning of finding out that I was in the arena, alone and separated from my one and only friend who had gotten dragged into this mess because of me. Because I wanted to meet him that night instead of any other night.

Turning back to the junk pile that I had been sitting on, I lifted another broken beam of timber and began to search for something that I could use as a weapon. I mean, the pieces of wood were fine, but if the other tributes were smart, they'd be picking up improvised weapons as well and making them better than they'd be on their own. So the glass from the broken windows and the pieces of rotting wood would shatter sooner rather than later. I was hoping to find something like a piece of sheet metal to use as a crude sheild and reinforce it later, or maybe some kind of steel pipe, or something that wasn't very breakable, but so far, only the piece of hardened plastic was all I had found.

Sure there were pieces of concrete and brick around, but I wasn't lugging those things with me. Putting them in my pockets until someone showed up, only to try and tug it out of these pants slowly and with too much effort? Impractical. Not only that, but it would weigh me down and make trying to be sneaky less effective, so those easy options were a big no for me.

There were some solid, thin metal poles sticking out of blocks of concrete to my left, but I wasn't able to lift the poles as the concrete weighed it down too much for me. I also didn't think that I would be able to rip them from their concrete prison, so those were a no go as well.

Sighing again, I wondered why it had to be so much trouble just to find some simple weapons? And why had the Capitol not given us a cornucopia? Really, what was up with this year anyway? After all this time, why were they changing the game now? It was confusing, and it was worse than before. At if it were the same before I would of known if Cash was here with me or not, and we'd of been able to find each other, but now... But now I didn't even know if he was being held by the peacekeepers in some room, being interrogated by them or not.

And what would they do to him? Would they hurt him until he told them what they wanted to hear, even if they were complete and utter lies? And then would would happen to him? Would they simply let them go, or would they do the more likely thing and place him on a whipping post and whip him in front of everyone, even with the Capitol television crews there? Shuttering at that, I willed that to not be true and hoped that he was okay and...

There was a sound... I think. It wasn't very loud, but it was enough for me to stop my searching and wonder what it was. I didn't hear it again, and I was sure I had imagined it, but I wanted to make sure that it wasn't my imagination.

I looked to the left, and there was nothing. To the right, there was nothing. Behind me, nothing. I looked in front of me and all I saw was a pile of blocks and busted timber.

Then I heard some kind of light woshing sound, like something was... Falling? I quickly looked up, and saw that something was flying to towards me, but I couldn't move out of the way fast enough, and that's when sharp agony washed over my head as it made contact.

I cried out in pain, falling onto my side and pressed my hands to my head and felt blood pouring out of where it stung. It felt as if my skull had caved in and had cracked. I felt tears well up in my eyes as I willed the pain to cease, but it caused me to do nothing but groan and want it to end.

Hearing bits of wood snap and debree being shoved roughly out of the way of something moving, I forced my eyes open and looked to the source of the sound, to see figure in front of me a second before another wave of agony washed over my face.

I screamed again and held my face tighter while at the same time, grabbing the improvised knife behind my back, but as soon as I grabbed the handle, I was meet with a crushing force to my neck, and that forced me to grab my throat as I struggled to breathe.

"Guess I over estimated you, huh, bitch!" An enraged voice that was dripping with joy laughed as I felt another blow hit me in the chest, causing my already oxygen deprived lungs to scream at me as I continued to claw for air. "But I should of expected as much from something as miserable and pathetic as you!"

Again, another kick to my ribs and and crushing force to my side, and I this time, I was able to give out a deep gasp as I was able to somewhat breathe through my not quite opened up windpipe. It felt as if I was being strangled, even though I knew I wasn't.

It was then that I felt something round and pointed slam into the center of my chest, causing me to gasp out even more as it pressed down, making it suddenly harder to breathe again, right before a blunt and bony object hit me across the face.

I used one arm to block the incoming object while using the other to grope around for something to use against my enemy, as I knew that pushing against them wouldn't of done much good with my air deprived body. It had taken too much damage too fast for me to be an effective fighter.

My enemy continued to slam their fist, the same fist, against the left side of my face, but I was able to block most of the damage with my arm, but they still hurt like hell. "Can't even fight back, can you bitch," they taunted cruelly. "You piece of shit girl!"

He reminded me of those that taunted Cash and I back home, and as much as I wanted to hurt them myself, I restrained myself because I knew my parent would be mad at me, and because the peacekeepers would have punished me for my inappropriate behavior.

Pressing my teeth together as I continued to get hit on the side of the head, I grabbed a long, but thin piece of wood, and thought of how there were no rules and no parents here as I plunged the long wood chip into someone's flesh.

What followed next was a howl as I continued to push the wood into the human body. Hands grabbed my arm and tried to stop me from inserting the stick into their flesh, but I continued to push despite their protests. "Stop!" He begged. "Stop it you fucking cunt it hurts!" Oh yeah, and how do you think I feel after you dropped something on my head and you started to beat me in the ground you fucking asshole!

He struggled for a couple more seconds before he finally gave up and jumped off of me, ripping the piece of wood out of himself in the process as the stick gave out a dry snap. His screams seemed to fill the sky as I gasped for air and rubbed my eyes to get those damn tears out of my vision.

When I got enough air in my lungs to concentrate once again, I got to my feet and focused on the still screaming boy, and saw that he was an older boy, curly blonde hair and clothes that looked not unlike those from District One, except there were blood stains on it, along with a fresh crimson circle forming around his left shoulder.

Wait... Was he from District One as well? Had I attacked my own district partner? Had he attacked me thinking that I was a threat? Judging from the broken nose that I knew I hadn't give him, he probably thought of me as a threat and didn't know that I was from the same district as him.

As he clawed at the puncture wound just below his left shoulder, no doubt a piece of timber still inside his flesh, I, with a raspy voice, cried out.

"Are you from District One?" It hurt my throat to ask, but it had to be asked. To which then he cried out a he removed a bloody chunk of wood that was two inches long with a wail. Even more blood began to stain his shirt as he looked at me with a look of pure hatred.

"I'm going to fucking kill you!" He roared as he charged at me.

It should of been easy... I move out of the way and throw him in the direction he ran towards, but my head was still spinning from all the punches and kicks he had given me, my body still in agony, and I couldn't react fast enough as he slammed himself into me. I felt myself go airborne before the wind rushed out of me as my back slammed into the hard and uneven ground.

Coughing yet again before a barrage of punches rained down on my face, and there was nothing I could do except block them and hope that I could find an opening. All the while, all the boy did was rain down punches onto my face, place his weight down on me so that I couldn't fight back as effectively, and scream profanity at me. And there was nothing I could do about it. My arms felt as if they were going to snap at any moment, and that would give him free access to my face. I knew he'd pound on it until my face came apart and rendered me dead, but I couldn't stop him.

I tried to get him off of me, I tried to fight back, but all it did was open me up to his assault.

I wanted to stop him. Needed to stop him, because I was not ready to die. I did not want to die. There were some many things that I needed to resolve, but the one thing I wanted more than anything right now was that I wanted to tell my one and only friend that I was sorry. That I was sorry for getting him in trouble with the peacekeepers, for maybe getting him into the arena, for all the shit he had to put up with when he was around me.

Cash... I'm... So sorry.

"ZOEY!"

 **District One's Cash Deliora (14)**

 **1:50PM**

I thought I had heard something, and dismissed it as my imagination, but then I heard it again, and again, I questioned whether I had heard it or not. Then I heard a mighty roar of pure agony, and that's when I knew that it wasn't my imagination.

Eris and I ran towards the source of the sound, and while neither he nor I particularly cared who it was as long as it wasn't Zoey screaming like that, we went towards it anyway. Eris said that it wasn't a girl creating that noise, but if someone was producing a sound that loud with that much pain in their voice, we were sure that there was a fight going on, and whoever was fighting was going to be seriously injuries. A perfect time to finish off some competition when one of them eventually died or fled.

Both of them would be weakened, and it would make our lives easier with their passing.

With my homemade sickle and his bent iron pipe, we headed to their location.

And when I got to the point where I could see both combatants, I see that one of them was from District Eight, and he was pounding on a darker skinned girl that I recognized so well, after all, she was from my district, and my best friend, and he was beating the absolute shit out of her with his fists.

Like so many other times, I ran to Zoey's defense. But this was the first time I was saving her from a beating and not from some simple taunts that pissed me off. No. This was real, and this was in the arena. Zoey was going to die if I didn't stop him, and like so many other times when others were bullying her, I didn't hesitate to step in, and this time, I knew that I was not going to over react.

"ZOEY!" I screamed out before I charged towards the asshole that was beating her up. Eris seemed to know what was up, because I saw him rush past me and using the bend in his arm, he grabbed the boy around the neck and seemed to effortlessly throw him off of her before he slammed onto the ground with a mighty thud.

Relief washed over me for a second as Zoey was no longer getting hurt, but only for a second, because Zoey had still gotten hurt and I didn't know how severely she was injured.

Rushing past her attacker and Eris, I skid to a stop next to Zoey, dropping my weapon and grabbing her with both my hands. "Zoey!" I cried out as I shook her, preying that she was still alive and not hurt too badly. The later was cut from my mind as I saw that some of the facial skin on her left side was ripped and producing a dark red liquid, while there was a gash on the side of her forehead. Her left eye was swelling and there were dark bruises forming on her face as well. What in the hell had happened to her? "Zoey!" I cried out again, shaking her some more. "Zoey!"

"C-" She struggled to say. "Cash?" She weakly said as a trickle of blood came from her mouth. She was still alive! Thank God!

"Yeah Zoe," I said with much relief. "It's m-" A horrific and loud cry of agony cut our reunion short as a wet, but sharp and thunderous crack rang through the air. I dared turn back to where Eris and the other guy was, so see Eris' foot standing on the other guy's elbow, blood stained bone stuck out of the guy's right arm as he arm bent completely the wrong way.

The guy continued to wail in torment as Eris continued to pull on his broken arm, each second producing more wailing as the sound of bone breaking and the sight of skin being torn apart continued until the back of the District Eight boy's right hand was touching his right shoulder! By then, blood was spraying out of his elbow by the bucket full! His jagged bones clearly showing as he produced a faucet full of tears from his eyes.

It was a horrific sight to say the least, and it was made only worse when Eris released his arm from his foot and his hand, as when the boy flung his broken arm towards his chest to cradle it, I saw just how broken it was. The bone had been completely snapped in two, and the only reason his arm was still together was because some skin was still attached to his arm.

Eris then looked at me and Zoey.

"That your girl?" He calmly asked as the the District Eight guy continued to scream and hold what was left of his arm.

I was a little shaken at how calm Eris was about what he had just done, but I managed to answer him.

"Y- Yeah. She i- Is."

"All right then." Eris replied before he grabbed the back of the District Eight boy's shirt and dragged him across the ground. He didn't seem to care though as all his attention was on his near severed arm, which was leaving a clear blood trail along the way as everything from from his elbow down flopped about. Whatever blood wasn't spraying onto his face and clothes that is.

Eris dragged the boy until they were at a pile of iron poles that were pointing out of the concrete. It was then that Eris forcibly lifted the boy up by his shirt, got him to his feet, and with all his might, slammed him to the ground, right where the iron poles were! Instantly, six of those poles impaled the boy through the chest and stomach, turning them from a rusted brown to a bloody red as the boy started to scream even louder, which I didn't think as possible!

As I watched blood start to pool under him and start to turn his shirt into a bloody red, I felt Zoey say to me.

"Help... Help me up. Cash."

Not taking my eyes off the horrific scene, I helped my friend up before I picked my weapon and helped my friend hobble over to Eris, who was watching the poor guy now trying to scream through a mouth full of thick blood that made it sound like he was drowning.

He looked like he was trying to escape from the poles, but he was trapped. It was like his blood was a kind of quick drying cement that prevented him from moving.

It made me realize just what might of happened if I had attempted to stab Eris in the back, and I couldn't help but shudder at that. Am I glad that he's on our side for now.

"Come on," I said, not wanting to watch this any more. "Let's go."

"No." Zoey said in a harsh voice, which surprised me. What could she possibly want here? "I need to do something."

It was then that she left my side, walked the three steps to the impaled boy, got to her knees, and started to mercilessly stab him in the throat again and again. Blood splashed onto my friend with each thrust as the hole in the boy's throat continued to grow in size until it was nothing more than a gaping hole filled with sickly red liquid.

It wasn't until Zoey had ran out of energy that she decided to cease stabbing him, and by that time, his breathing had ceased, his eyes went dead, and a canon fired a few seconds after.

Zoey huffed and puffed before I finally decided that it was time for me to comfort her. I gently grabbed her and lifted her to her feet.

"Whatever that guy did," I said to her with more than a little shock. "He's dead now."

"I know." She told me as she wiped the blood droplets on her face.

I pulled her in close to comfort her, feeling her close to me once again, knowing that she was with me again. With me, but not safe, and most definitely not unharmed. I... I should of gotten here earlier, then she would be this bad. And... And maybe she wouldn't of done that. It's crazy, but the thought of her doing that, it's just something that I couldn't believe.

"Come on," I said gently to her, wanting to get away from the corpse that used to be a boy a few seconds ago. "Let's go."

 **A/N: Hey guys, I'm back. This chapter wasn't as epic as I wanted it to be, but I hope you enjoyed it. I haven't wrote anything for a while and I hope my skill fade wasn't that bad.**

 **I'm thinking of putting some focus onto my other fic, Shades of Normality, for a bit, so expect the updates for this fic to slow down as a result. I'd like to get Shades of Normality into the arena at least, but I'd really like to get to the first arena death.**

 **For my summer experience, I might post something on my profile later, but maybe not.**

 **If you guys haven't checked out the blog and want to see it, here's the link again: pricewepayhg / blogspot . ca and if you do go see it, tell me what you think.**

 **How were your guy's summer?**


	23. Summarization

**A/N: Hey everyone, I hate to say this, but this fic won't be finished. I know that I said that I'd continue this story when I got to a certain point in Shades of Normality, but that's no longer possible as something dropped on my laptop and it's now malfunctioning thanks to the touch screen thinking that it's being constantly touched in multiple directions. So while I'm staying at my parent's house for a bit, I'm using their computer to type this out, and I don't know when I'll be getting a new laptop.**

 **Anyway, here's a summery of the major (and some minor) things I had planned if the character sheets hadn't disappeared:**

With Eve injured and Astrid taking care of her, Eve would think of her as a helpless child that got kidnapped for the sole reason of the Capitol being sadistic and wanting to prey on helpless children. She'd be falling for Astrid's cute girl persona, but mean while, Astrid would be planning for that.

Nearby, Amaury would be minding his own business when suddenly, he'd walk right into Eve and Astrid's hideout and steal some food from them. Eve would catch him and give chase while threatening to murder him, and though Amaury wouldn't understand the words Eve spoke he'd understand her intent, and he'd just think that he'd be back home. He'd escape, and while Eve wouldn't be angry, she'd be very disappointed in herself as she'd think of what that sort of thing would have cost if she had been back home with her sisters.

Meanwhile, Cash, Zoey, and Eris would have found an intact warehouse sort of building that they'd set up as their base. Cash would be thinking of how Zoey had easily murdered someone, and as the memories come back to him full force, he'd be thinking of how he had been too frightened of his friend to even be scared. He'd then look at Zoey differently from that moment on.

Clarity would then stumble upon the base with the injured Arista, and upon the five careers seeing each other, they'd think about killing each other as the most secure building they had seen in the arena would be compromised, but then they'd notice the numbers on their clothes, and they'd form an uneasy alliance due to Eris wondering if it would be a good idea to let his very injured district partner in and wondering how much use she'd be to them. Cash and the girls convince him to let her in and save Arista from blood loss.

Cornelia at the same time, would be looking at the careers and wondering how she could get into the alliance. She thinks about going in there and trying to seduce one of the boys, but she wouldn't be sure it would work as she studies them some more. She sees that Cash is attached to Zoey, and Eris was ready to throw out a fellow career, so she heads out to see if she can find a way to enter the pack.

The day would turn into night when Briony stumbles upon Astrid and they make small talk. Astrid would tell Briony that she's scared of Eve and that she hasn't escaped from her because she's worried that she'll find her and kill her and she's afraid of facing the arena alone. Briony, thinking of the peacekeepers back in District Eleven and the Capitol, she agrees to help Astrid.

Briony then tries to sneak up to Eve and take her out, but Eve wakes up thanks to Briony's failed attempt at stealth. Briony and Eve then get into a struggle as each one of the girl's worry about little Astrid. Eve would stab Briony multiple times with the spiked leather knuckles she took from Tracker, injuring her severely. Briony on the other hand, would eventually beat Eve's head in with a brick, spilling her brains on the ground before Astrid would reveal her true colours and use Eve's rebar club to impale Briony's leg, preventing her from escaping before strangling her with boot laces. After Astrid's betrayal is finished, she'd take all their equipment and fall asleep soundly, loving the feeling of getting away with murder, but wishing that she could have played with Briony longer.

 **Death list:**  
 **21st place: Eve Datter of District Three**  
 **20th place: Briony Wells of District Eleven**

Elsewhere, Harvest would be sleeping off his injuries with Mina and Alaria when Mina wakes everyone up by screaming in fright. Turns out Amaury found their hideout and was searching for food before Mina unexpectedly woke up and saw him.

The three of them, though far superior in strength, lack Amaury's agility and have a tough time trying to hit and grab him and they begin to tire as Amaury finds a way to escape. But then Harvest manages to grab Amaury and tries to split his head in with his axe, which Mina helped him make with the help of his steel pipe and a sharp piece of sheet metal.

Amaury gets out of Harvest's grip by biting his wrist hard enough to draw blood and kicking him in the face. And while it doesn't hurt him much, it gives Amaury the gap to escape. Mina gets worried for Harvest while Alaria doesn't have the skills to climb after Amaruy, who's escaping through the roof.

Morning comes and at the career base, Arista wakes up, and while she hurts all over, she's still alive, and thanks Clarity for saving her. The careers begin looking for supplies, and while Cash is worried about Zoey, she tells him to not worry about her.

The lone career, Turret, who's lost some of his humor, comes face to face with Cornelia, who tries to seduce him and it works until she mentions she knows where the career pack is, to which then Turret tells her that he's not interested in joining the careers. Cornelia insists that since he's from District Four that it'd be better for him to join the careers, but he tells of his encounter with Arista and refuses. Cornelia then thinks that if she can bring his head to the other careers, that they'll then let her in.

Cornelia attacks Turret with a chunk of concrete, but Turret, not wanting to get beaten up again, is ready. He counter's her attack and pins her to the ground before he declares that he doesn't want to hurt her, to which Cornelia slashes Turret's face with her nails. Turret, in pain and angry, dislocates Cornelia's wrist. Both of their screams attract the attention of Harvest, Mina, and Alaria.

The three of them charge at Turret, who decides to retreat. Cornelia decides to join Harvest and the girls when they propose an alliance. Cornelia decides that they might have some use for her.

Asher would be looking for a way to survive when he finds a building full of tools. Thinking he hit the jackpot, he'd go towards them, until he finds that they're all booby trapped. He'd then look for ways to disarm them before he hears something metallic squeaking behind him. He turns around and sees Felix with a homemade flame thrower with the supplies she got from the workshop and oil in which she found else where in the arena.

Asher cracks one last joke out of fear before he gets burned alive.

 **Death list:**  
 **19th place: Asher Dasos of District Seven**

The careers would be wondering why they got kidnapped, and Eris and Arista would reveal that it was because of the rebels in the districts. In an attempt to stop the rebels, or at least discourage people from joining them and sympathizing with their cause, they'd kidnap several people with connections to the rebels. Zoey and Cash curse those involved with the rebels, saying that none of them would be connected to any rebels and that the only reason they were kidnapped was because they had been out past curfew. Eris and Arista would explain that they support the peacekeepers.

It's soon realized that Clarity is pro-rebel, and the four other careers in the alliance start blaming Clarity for being a rebel. They tell her that its because of people like her that they didn't get a choice in being picked and Eris eventually puts his emotions into actions as he strangles Clarity, only for her to be saved by stabbing Eris in the side of the neck and throwing another homemade knife into Zoey's right shoulder.

Arista tries to throw a homemade knife at Clarity, but misses due to her injuries, allowing Clarity to escape as Cash worries by Zoey's side.

It would be at this point where tributes start to get harassed by Huxley with his home made explosives, and Felix with her home made flame thrower. Harvest sees Mazie several times, each time she shies away out of fear, but eventually talks to him a couple of times, each time, refusing his alliance.

Cornelia notices, and takes note of the two of them, because while Mazie doesn't seem to care too much about her district partner, she seems to trust him more than anything else, and Harvest seems to want to protect her as well.

Eventually, Harvest sees Mazie another time, trying to coax Mazie into joining him. In the background, Cornelia convinces Alaria that Harvest is going to abandon them for Mazie, and Alaria readily agrees and leaves the alliance. Mina doesn't want to believe Cornelia, but she doesn't say any reason to not trust her.

Mina goes off to wonder if she should stay with Harvest or leave since he seems to invest more time looking for Mazie rather than take care of the rest of the alliance. What Mina sees when she returns is Cornelia severing Harvest's head off with a piece of metal while Mazie can only look in horror before she runs off, disappearing in a maze of buildings and rubble. Mina, too scared to do anything, runs away.

 **Death list:**  
 **18th place: Harvest "Harv" Miller of District Seven**

At the same time, Dyami, who has been stalking Chock and Alaula to their current base, having failed to worm his way into an alliance with them since Alaula sees past his act of kindness since she's seen people like him back in District Twelve and he got chased off by Chock. Dyami, in the middle of the night, sneaks up on the sleeping Alaula and ties her up with electrical cord before he sneaks up in Chock and beats him with a sock that has a heavy lock inside of it. He beats Chock half to death, suffering great injuries of his own, before he skewers Chock's hands with a pair of scissors and ties his wrists together. Alaula tries to fight him, but it's no use as her hands and legs are tied.

Dyami forces Chock to carry Alaula over his shoulders as they go to the career base of operations.

Cornelia arrives and presents the careers with Harvest's head before Dyami arrives and presents them with Alaula, a medic that can help them, and Chock, who he pulls the scissors out of his hands before he jams them into his neck and forces Alaula to watch him die. The two tributes from Ten are welcomed into the career pack.

 **Death list:**  
 **17th place Chock Roach of District Twelve**

Elsewhere, Alaria would still be bitter about what Cornelia said about Harvest's motives, Alaria goes wondering around the arena looking for someplace safe before she finds a suitable shelter and finds Clarity in it. After some trust issues, Clarity takes a chance and asks Alaria if she believes in the rebel cause, to which then strikes Alaria, and she no longer wants to kill the career as much. The two then form an alliance out of mutual interest, though Alaria still doesn't completely trust the career.

Amaury on the other hand, gets on the wrong side of the careers when Eris, Cash, and Dyami find his lair and beat him to a bloody pulp, of which Dyami finds incredibly satisfying as Amaury's bones break one by one and his screams fill him with joy. Cash begins to have doubts about the career group as he witnesses Eris' and Dyami's coldness towards killing.

 **16th place Amaury Vernis of District Five**

At the career base of camp, Zoey, Arista, and Cornelia as enjoying some food, waiting for the boys to return. Alaula is defiant to the careers, but thanks to the beatings that she's received from Dyami, Cornelia, Eris to a lesser extent, and to a much less extent, Cash, but still patches them up. Arista is doing better. The reason Cash hit her is because she was making rude comments about Zoey, which Cash absolutely hates. Eris hit her because she was refusing to cooperate, and Dyami and Cornelia beat her because to them, it was fun to do, her uncooperating and speaking out of line was only an excuse for them to do so.

Alaula is mocking them about how they can hurt her as much as they want, but she's too valuable to kill when their base gets attacked by Huxley using explosives. The four of them retreat, dragging the still injured Arista and the tied up medic behind them before Cornelia gets blasted with shrapnel, blowing her left leg off. Zoey then has to decide to try and save the one legged Cornelia and put herself and Arista in more danger, or leave her and hope to survive. Zoey decides to save herself and Arista, leaving Huxley to be attracted to Cornelia's screams where he rolls an explosive towards her. It detonates right below her, blowing her into meaty chunks as Zoey, Arista, and Alaula disappear into the night.

 **15th place Cornelia Withers of District Ten**

When the career boys discover that their base has been compromised, they decide to meet up at the alternate base.

When the sun rises, Clarity and Alaria discover a tool shop, and Alaria, not thinking straight from lack of water and food, decides to step into the tool shop, not only to get some tools for crafting some murder weapons, but to see if there's food and water inside of it, only to get a screw driver to fly through her head. Clarity runs away from the tool shop, not wanting to risk dying for a couple of tools.

 **14th place Alaria Grindetti of District Five**

Astrid mean time, would be having a tough time getting used to the concept of starvation and dehydration, something that she's never experienced before and would be getting desperate for food. She finds some comfort in Mina, who, even though she had previously been fighting with Turret days earlier, and had recently been chased by both Huxley and Felix, shares some of her food with what she thinks is a desperate, starving girl, and feeling sorry for her, gives her some of her food, but disappearing soon after as she doesn't want to feel betrayed again.

The careers would be at their secondary camp when Alaula refuses to give her services to the careers any longer. Dyami continues to punch and kick her, but Alaula still refuses to give anyone any type of medical attention. Alaula, more injured than her not quite so alliance combined, spits blood onto Dyami, who, suffering from the withdrawal of drugs and alcohol, lashes out on the girl, and would have killed her if Eris didn't bash Dyami's head into a wall until it broke like an eggshell.

 **13th place Dyami Vale of District Ten**

Eris says that Alaula is much more valuable than him and orders Cash and Zoey to mend her up. While Cash and Zoey do just that, Cash expresses his discomfort for the alliance as Eris doesn't care about anyone and will kill easily. Zoey argues that she'd do the same, to which Cash says that while he doesn't care about Eris he cares about her, even if she scares him now. Eventually, Cash and Zoey say that they can take Eris on if they both go at him at once, to which Arista tells them not to as she knows of Eris, and how he's one of the top students at the academy.

After some debate, when they are out of ear shot of Arista, Zoey and Cash decide to run away from the alliance before something happens to them. The two of them, taking advantage of Arista's injured state, split her head open with their home made hatchet.

 **12th place Arista Osbourne of District Two**

The two of them decide to take Alaula with them, telling her that they'll treat her better if they escape with them. Zoey and Cash tell her everything that they think she wants to hear before Alaula gives out a weird laugh as blood runs out of her mouth.

She then reveals that she bit off her own tongue and tells them that she's no longer their slave. And to add to the duo's horror, she calls for Eris. The District One duo bolts out of there, Alaula laughing the entire time until she dies.

 **11th place Alaula Kingsty of District Twelve**

Mina in the meantime would be cursing Harvest's name as he was going to abandon them for another girl, and cursing Cornelia's name for killing Harvest. She hates both of them for what they had done as, to her, there was no rhyme or reason the two of them did what they had done to the alliance. And since the alliance had split, she's been vulnerable, nearly getting killed by both Huxley and Felix.

She gets so lost in thought that she doesn't notice Turret swinging his sword at her until it's too late. She barely manages to duck and block with her weapon before Turret hits it out of her hands and kicks her to the ground.

Mina and Turret get into a fight where Mina does more running and hiding than actually fighting. in the end, Mina knows that she can't outrun Turret forever and, with hesitance, takes a stand against him, leading her to smash his face into a door and through a window before Turret decapitates her with his sword.

 **10th place Mina Lokai of District Seven**

Cash and Zoey later on would find Huxley, and would follow him to his hideout and try to take him out in the middle of the night when they think he's asleep, but they would accidentally trigger a trap that doesn't kill them, but really hurts them. Huxley then tries to kill the two District One careers with his explosives, but Zoey and Cash had found the path to his hideout and head towards it, narrowly dodging explosives on the way.

Cash manages to set off the bobby trapped front door before he and Zoey charge in, only to be meet with Huxley's taser. Huxley then drags Zoey over to a table, which contain equipment made to make home made explosives and weapons. Huxley is nearly about to slit her throat when Cash grabs Huxley and forces him out of the building and throws him into the mine field.

 **9th place Huxley Moon of District Three**

The career duo then collect as much explosives as they can carry.

That same night, Mazie is sleeping in her hiding spot before Felix discovers where she's been sleeping and silently kills her in her sleep.

 **8th place Mazie MacDonald of District Nine**

It would be the next afternoon, and Clarity is wandering the arena, wondering about how she supports the rebels and regrets the other careers finding out about that. She wonders how the other careers, who have seen victors suffer because of their games and wonders why anyone would want the Hunger Games to continue when she finds herself cut off from oxygen. She tries to fight Eris off, but he's too strong and she can't do anything to him as he lifts her off the ground, still strangling her with his arms.

Eris then asks Clarity if she's even seen the damage she and her rebels friends are causing for the rest of Panem. Clarity can't answer, but Eris continues. He tells her that because of people like her and her friends, everyone is worse off. That's the last thing Clarity hears before she falls unconscious.

 **7th place Clarity Worthington of District Four**

Nearby, Felix sees Cash and Zoey at her fuel depot and tries to burn them alive, only for Zoey to toss an explosive at her, causing her flamethrower tank to combust, causing Felix to be burned alive.

 **6th place Felix De Mauro of District Six**

It's soon after that Eris arrives to see what fireball in the sky had been when explosives start to detonate around him. The explosives damage him, and when Cash and Zoey run out of them, they charge at Eris, believing that he's been injured enough by the explosives.

An epic fight ensues in which would result in Eris crushing Cash's neck with his tire iron and him gorging out Zoey's eyes before beating her head in with his tire iron until she was dead. Cash, wanting to kill Eris with all his passion, rushes towards him with two homemade knives in his hands. Eris simply hits Cash in the neck again, throws him into the pool of crude oil, and allows him to drown.

 **5th place Zoey Montague of District One**

 **4th place Cash Deliora of District One**

After only getting enough time to briefly tend to himself, the Capitol sends in mutts to make Eris, Turret, and Astrid, who's been struggling with hunger, dehydration, and the less that suitable conditions of the arena, towards each other.

The boys walk towards their final enemies, ready for it to end.

While Astrid hides close to the final battle field, Eris and Turret simply march towards each other. Both boys, seriously injured, bloody, exhausted, hungry, and thirsty, exchange no words as they look at each other, sizing the other up.

Then an epic fight ensues, in which their weapons clash with each other and they each try to gain the advantage. The two boys continuously hit each other with the blunt parts of their weapons or their arms or legs, but none can get a killing shot in.

Then it comes to a point where they both disarm each other and they get down and dirty with their fists, using every dirty move they know.

Their fight comes to a conclusion when Eris breaks Turret's right arm and leg right before he sticks both his hands into Turret's throat and rips it open vertically until he can see through the other side of it.

The fight ends with Eris losing one of his ears, a crushed nose, half his face being ripped off, several cracked ribs, and complete and pure agony in which he had never felt before.

 **3nd place Turret Tawell of District Four**

It's then that Astrid comes out of the shadows and bites Eris in the side of the neck. Eris screams and rips her off of him before he knocks her out.

When Astrid wakes, she finds herself tied to a chair. Her wrists and ankles tied with razor wire. Eris then explains to her that the Capitol wants one last show, and he's going to give it to them. Astrid then becomes extremely frightened as Eris explains what each tool he has on the table can do to someone and what he might do to Astrid. Astrid begs him not to do it, and as one last ditch effort to save her life, she offers Eris sexual favors. Eris tells her she's disgusting before he begins his work.

 **2nd place Astrid Luffet of District Eight**

After not explaining what Eris does to Astrid, Eris goes to his final Capitol interview before he heads home.

His friends and family greet him happily, and while Eris is happy to see them all, the one person who he wants to see most is Neiva. Though in public, they don't show affection, they both know what's going to happen behind closed doors.

Eris spends a victory night with his best friend, Cadmar, where they drink themselves stupid and cause a ruckus among the district before Eris spends the night with Neiva.

Life continues as normal, except Eris is a victor. He still doesn't care about the rebels, or the Capitol and wishes that they'd either stop their stupid fight so that others would stop suffering for their war. Especially those in District Two.

One year later, Eris and Neiva have a child, though nobody knows that Eris is the father, and Eris loves him. Eris is thinking about his life decisions and thinking about what he had seen and heard during his victory tour through Panem. Thinking about the rebels and thinking about how they were getting more and more violent and how District Two was getting increasingly desperate for peacekeepers thanks to the rebellious acts of the other districts.

Cadmar drops by Eris' victor home, beaten near to death. By the time he wakes, thanks to the help of Eris and his family, Eris' rebel friend tells Eris of the atrocities the rebels in other districts are taking to take out the Capitol and the peacekeepers. And when Cadmar didn't agree with the rebels, they nearly tortured him to death.

Cadmar tells Eris that he thought that the Capitol was harsh to the districts, but it seemed that the rebels were even worse. Cadmar then tells Eris that he's going to going the peacekeepers.

Eris, having seen the other districts during his victory tour, saw what was happening in the districts after the quarter quell, decides to join him, knowing that one way or another, the war might come to District Two. And when and if it came, Eris wanted to be ready to protect those he cared about.

Neiva begs Eris to stay, telling him that she nearly lost him twice. Once to nearly killing her boyfriend at the time, the second in the games. Neiva tells him that he's being selfish, and that he should stay with her. That if he really cares about her and their kid, he'll live his life with them and not out fighting someone else's war. That if he really cared, he'd live for them and not for the Capitol that he never liked in the first place.

The two friends are then seen signing up for the peacekeepers the next day.

 **1st place Eris Fontani**

 **And that's how I had it planned in my head. Of course, things would more than likely of turned out differently if I had continued. Like as at first, I had planned for this fic to be around only 100,000 words long.**

 **Final questions:**

 **Would you guys have liked that story line?**  
 **Satisfied with the winner?**  
 **Would you guys have liked something different?**  
 **Overall comments?**

 **I might make another fic in the near future as I thought of another fic that I hope will be actually short. 50,000 words or something like that. Hopefully less.**

 **It'll be called 'The Anarchy Games' and I might make it a partial SYOT, but don't get your hopes up, because I would easily not make it one (and more than likely it won't). It'll mainly serve as an output for me to let a little more of my sadistic side out and allow me to write gruesome injuries to unwilling teenagers as Shades of Normality is still a ways away from getting to the arena. I don't know when it'll be out since my laptop is screwed, but if interested, keep a look out for it.**


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